PUBLISHER

INDEX

THE LIFE OF SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSISI

PROLOGUE

1. The grace of God our Saviour hath
in these latter days appeared in His servant Francis unto all such as
be truly humble, and lovers of holy Poverty, who, adoring the
overflowing mercy of God seen in him, are taught by his ensample to
utterly deny ungodliness and worldly lusts and to live after the
manner of Christ, thirsting with unwearied desire for the blessed
hope. For God Most High regarded him, as one that truly was poor and
of a contrite spirit, with so great condescension of His favour as
that not only did He raise him up in his need from the dust of his
worldly way of life, but also made him a true professor, leader, and
herald of Gospel perfection. Thus He gave him for a light unto
believers, that by bearing witness of the light he might prepare for
the Lord the way of light and peace in the hearts of the faithful.
For Francis, even as the morning star in the midst of a cloud,
shining with the bright beams of his life and teaching, by his
dazzling radiance led into the light them that sat in darkness and in
the shadow of death, and, like unto the rainbow giving light in the
bright clouds, set forth in himself the seal of the Lord’s
covenant. He preached the gospel of peace and salvation unto men,
himself an Angel of the true peace, ordained of God to follow in the
likeness of the Forerunner, that, preparing in the desert the way of
sublimest Poverty, he might preach repentance by his ensample and
words alike. For, firstly, he was endowed with the gifts of heavenly
grace; next, enriched by the merits of triumphant virtue; filled with
the spirit of prophecy and appointed unto angelic ministries;
thereafter, wholly set on fire by the kindling of the Seraph, and,
like the prophet, borne aloft in a chariot of fire; wherefore it is
reasonably proven, and clearly apparent from the witness of his whole
life, that he came in the spirit and power of Elias.

In like wise, he is thought to be not
unmeetly set forth in the true prophecy of that other friend of the
Bridegroom, the Apostle and Evangelist John, under the similitude of
the Angel ascending from the sunrising and bearing the seal of the
Living God. For at the opening of the sixth seal, I saw, saith John
in the Apocalypse, another Angel ascending from the sunrising and
bearing the seal of the Living God.

2. Now that this Angel was indeed
that messenger of God, beloved of Christ, our ensample and the
world’s wonder, Francis, the servant of God, we may with full
assurance conclude, when we consider the heights of lofty saintliness
whereunto he attained, and whereby, living among men, he was an
imitator of the purity of the Angels, and was also set as an ensample
unto them that do perfectly follow after Christ. That this belief
should be faithfully and devoutly held we are convinced by the
vocation that he shewed to call to weeping and to mourning, and to
baldness, and to girding with sackcloth, and to set a mark upon the
foreheads of the men that sigh and that cry, by the sign of his
penitent’s Cross and habit fashioned like unto a Cross.
Moreover, it is further confirmed, with unanswerable witness unto its
truth, by the seal of the likeness of the Living God, to wit, of
Christ Crucified, the which was imprinted on his body, not by the
power of nature or the skill of art, but rather by the marvellous
might of the Spirit of the Living God.

3. Feeling myself unworthy and
insufficient to relate the life most worthy of all imitation of this
most venerable man, I should have in no wise attempted it, had not
the glowing love of the Brethren moved me thereunto, and the
unanimous importunity of the Chapter General incited me, and that
devotion compelled me, which I am bound to feel for our holy Father.
For I, who remember as though it happened but yesterday how I was
snatched from the jaws of death, while yet a child, by his invocation
and merits, should fear to be convicted of the sin of ingratitude did
I refrain from publishing his praises. And this was with me the chief
motive for undertaking this task, to wit, that I, who own my life of
body and mind to have been preserved unto me by God through his
means, and have proved his power in mine own person, and knew the
virtues of his life, might collect as best I could, albeit I could
not fully, his deeds and words,—fragments, as it were,
overlooked in part, in part scattered,—that they might not be
utterly lost on the death of those that lived with the servant of
God.

4. Accordingly, that the true story
of his life might be handed down unto posterity by me the more
assuredly and clearly, I betook me unto the place of his birth, and
there did hold diligent converse with his familiar friends that were
yet living, touching the manner of life of the holy man and his
passing away; and with those in especial that were well acquainted
with his holiness, and were his chief followers, who may be
implicitly believed by reason of their well-known truthfulness and
approved uprightness. But in relating the things that through His
servant God vouchsafed to work, I deemed it best to shun all
fantastic ornaments of style, forasmuch as that the devotion of the
reader increaseth more by a simple than by an ornate speech. Nor have
I always woven together the history according unto chronology, that I
might avoid confusion, but I rather endeavoured to preserve a more
coherent order, setting down sometimes facts of divers kinds that
belong unto the same period, sometimes facts of the same kind that
belong unto divers periods, as they seemed best to fit in together.

5. Now the beginning of the life of
Francis, its course, and its consummation, are divided into fifteen
chapters, as set down below, and thuswise described.

The first treateth of his manner of
life in the secular state.

The second, of his perfect conversion
unto God, and of the repairing of the three churches.

The third, of the founding of his
Religion, and sanction of the Rule.

The fourth, of the advancement of the
Order under his hand, and of the confirmation of the Rule already
sanctioned.

The fifth of the austerity of his
life, and of how all created things afforded him comfort.

The sixth of his humility and
obedience, and of the divine condescensions shewn unto him at will.

The seventh, of his love for Poverty,
and of the wondrous supplying of his needs.

The eighth, of the kindly impulses of
his piety, and of how the creatures lacking understanding seemed to
be made subject unto him.

The ninth, of his ardent love, and
yearning for martyrdom.

The tenth, of his zeal and efficacy
in prayer.

The eleventh, of his understanding of
the Scriptures, and of his spirit of prophecy.

The twelfth, of the efficacy of his
preaching, and of his gift of healing.

The thirteenth, of the sacred
stigmata.

The fourteenth, of his sufferings and
death.

The fifteenth, of his canonisation,
and the translation of his body.

Thereafter is added some account of
the miracles shewn after his blessed departure.

Chapter I

OF HIS MANNER OF LIFE IN THE SECULAR STATE

1. There was a man in the city of
Assisi, by name Francis, whose memory is blessed, for that God,
graciously preventing him with the blessings of goodness, delivered
him in His mercy from the perils of this present life, and abundantly
filled him with the gifts of heavenly grace. For, albeit in his youth
he was reared in vanity amid the vain sons of men, and, after gaining
some knowledge of letters, was appointed unto a profitable business
of merchandise, nevertheless, by the aid of the divine protection, he
went not astray among the wanton youths after the lusts of the flesh,
albeit given up unto pleasures; nor among the covetous merchants,
albeit intent on his gains, did he put his trust in money and
treasure. For there was divinely implanted in the heart of the young
Francis a certain generous compassion toward the poor, the which,
growing up with him. from infancy, had so filled his heart with
kindliness that, when he came to be no deaf hearer of the Gospel, he
was minded to give unto all that asked of him, in especial if they
pleaded the love of God. But once on a time, when he had been busied
with the cares of his trading, and, contrary unto his wont, had sent
empty away a certain beggar who besought an alms for the love of God,
he forthwith, returning unto his pitiful mind, ran after him, and
bestowed alms in merciful wise upon him; promising unto the Lord God
that thenceforward he would never, while he could, refuse any that
asked of him, pleading the love of God. And this promise with
unwearied goodness he did observe until his death, thereby winning
abundant increase of the love and grace of God. For he was wont to
say in after time, when he had perfectly put on Christ, that, even
while he was in the secular state, he could scarce ever hear words
telling of the love of God, and remain unmoved in heart. Assuredly
the charm of his gentleness and his courtly bearing, his
submissiveness and docility surpassing men’s wont, his
open-handed largesse even beyond his means, were all clear tokens of
the fair disposition of the youth, and seemed to be a presage of the
abundance of divine blessing that should thereafter be poured out
more richly upon him.

A certain citizen of Assisi, a
simpleton as was believed, yet one taught of God, whensoever he met
Francis going through the city, would doff his cloak and spread the
garment before his feet, declaring that Francis was worthy of all
honour, as one that should ere long do mighty deeds, and was on this
account to be splendidly honoured by all the faithful.

2. But as yet Francis knew not the
intent of God concerning him, forasmuch as he was both drawn away
unto external things by his father’s calling, and weighed down
toward earthly things by the corruption inborn in our nature, and had
not yet learned to contemplate heavenly things, nor accustomed
himself to taste of divine. And, because the infliction of
tribulation giveth understanding unto the spirit, the hand of the
Lord was upon him and the changes of the right hand of the Most High,
afflicting his body with protracted sickness, that so He might
prepare his soul for the anointing of the Holy Spirit. Now when he
had regained his bodily strength, and had made ready for himself in
his wonted fashion meet apparel, he met a certain soldier, of noble
birth, but poor and ill-clad; whereupon, compassionating his poverty,
with a kindly impulse he forthwith did off his garments and put them
on him, thus in one act fulfilling a twofold ministry of kindliness,
insomuch as he both covered the shame of a noble knight, and relieved
the destitution of a poor man.

3. Now on the night following, when
he had yielded himself unto sleep, the divine mercy shewed him a fair
and great palace, together with military accoutrements adorned with
the sign of the Cross of Christ, thus setting forth unto him that the
mercy he had shewn unto the poor soldier for the love of the King
Most High was to be recompensed by this peerless reward. Accordingly,
when he enquired whose were these things, answer was made him by a
divine declaration that they all were his own and his soldiers.’
Then, waking at early morn,—since he had not yet practised his
mind in examining the divine mysteries, and knew not how to pass
through the appearance of things seen unto the beholding of the truth
of things unseen,—he accounted this strange vision a token of
great good fortune. Wherefore he purposed, being as yet ignorant of
the divine counsel, to betake himself into Apulia, unto a certain
munificent Count, hoping in his service to win glory in arms, as the
vision shewn unto him had betokened. With but little delay, he set
forth on his journey and had gone as far as the neighbouring city;
there he heard the Lord speaking unto him by night as with the voice
of a friend, and saying: “Francis, who can do better for thee,
the lord or the servant, the rich man or the poor ?” And when
Francis had made reply that alike the lord and the rich man could do
the best, the Voice answered forthwith: “Why, then, dost thou
leave the Lord for the servant, the rich God for a poor mortal?”
And Francis said: “Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?”
And the Lord said unto him: “Return unto thy country, for the
vision that thou hast seen betokeneth that which shall be spiritually
wrought, and is to be fulfilled in thee not by mortal counsel, but by
divine.” So, when it was morning, he returned in haste toward
Assisi, confident and rejoicing, awaiting the will of the Lord.

4. Thenceforward he withdrew him from
the stir of public business, devoutly praying the heavenly mercy that
it would deign to shew him that which he ought to do. And so by the
constant practice of prayer the flame of heavenly yearning was
mightily kindled within him, and for the love of his heavenly
fatherland he now contemned all earthly things as naught; for he felt
that he had found the hid treasure and, like a wise merchant man,
meditated selling all that he had to buy the pearl that he had found.
But he knew not yet how to compass this, except that it was whispered
unto his spirit that spiritual merchandise hath its beginning in the
contempt of the world, and that the warfare of Christ is to be begun
by victory over self.

Now on a day while he was riding
over the plain that lieth beneath the city of Assisi, he met a
certain leper, and this unforeseen meeting filled him with loathing.
But when he recalled the purpose of perfection that he had even then
conceived in mind, and remembered that it behoved him first of all
to conquer self, if he were fain to become the soldier of Christ, he
leapt from his horse and ran to embrace him. When the leper
stretched forth his hand as though to receive an alms, he kissed it,
and then put money therein. Then forthwith mounting his horse, he
looked round him on all sides, and the plain was spread before him
unbroken, and no trace of that leper might he see. Then, filled with
wonder and joy, he began devoutly to chant praises unto the Lord,
purposing from this to rise ever unto greater heights. From that
time forth, he would seek lonely places, dear unto mourners, and
there he devoted himself without ceasing to groanings which cannot
be uttered, and, after long importunity in prayer, won an answer
from the Lord. For while one day he was thus praying in seclusion,
and in his exceeding fervour was wholly absorbed in God, there
appeared unto him Christ Jesus in the likeness of One Crucified.
Beholding Him, his soul was melted within him, and so deeply was the
remembrance of Christ’s Passion imprinted inwardly on his
heart that from that hour, whensoever he recalled the Crucifixion of
Christ, he could scarce refrain from tears and from groaning aloud;
even as he himself in after time told his friends, when he was
drawing nigh his end. For in sooth by this vision the man of God
understood that Gospel saying to be addressed unto him: ‘‘If
thou wilt come after Me, deny thyself, and take up thy cross, and
follow Me.”

6. From that time forth, he put on
the spirit of poverty, the feeling of humility, and the love of
inward godliness. For whereas aforetime not only the company, but
even the distant sight, of lepers had inspired him with violent
loathing, now, for the sake of Christ Crucified,—Who, saith the
prophet, appeared despised, and marred as a leper,—and that he
might fully vanquish self, he would render unto the lepers humble and
kindly services in his benevolent goodness. For he would often visit
their dwellings, and bestow alms upon them with a bountiful hand, and
with a deep impulse of pity would kiss their hands and faces. Unto
poor folk that begged of him, he was fain to give not his goods
alone, but his very self, at times stripping off his garments, at
times tearing or cutting them, to bestow upon them, when he had
naught else at hand. Poor priests, moreover, he would succour
reverently and piously, more especially with ornaments for the altar,
whereby he both became a sharer in the divine worship, and supplied
the needs of the worshippers. Now about this time he was visiting,
with devout reverence, the shrine of the Apostle Peter, and beheld a
host of beggars before the doors of the church; thereupon,
constrained in part by gentle piety, in part led by the love of
poverty, he bestowed his own garments on one of the neediest, and,
clad in his rags, passed that day in the midst of the beggars, with
unwonted gladness of spirit; that so, despising worldly repute, he
might attain by gradual steps unto Gospel perfection. He kept right
strict watch over the mortification of the flesh, that he might bear
the Cross of Christ, the which he bore inwardly in his heart,
outwardly also in his body. So all these things were wrought by the
man of God, Francis, ere yet he had separated himself from the world
in habit or way of life.

Chapter II

OF HIS PERFECT CONVERSION UNTO GOD, AND OF
THE REPAIRING OF THE THREE CHURCHES

1. Forasmuch as the servant of the
Most High had none to instruct him in this way except Christ, His
mercy was now further vouchsafed unto him in visitations of His sweet
grace. For on a certain day, when he had gone forth to meditate in
the fields, he was walking nigh the church of Saint Damian, which
from its exceeding great age was threatening to fall, and, at the
prompting of the Spirit, went within to pray. Prostrating himself
before an Image of the Crucified, he was filled with no small
consolation of spirit as he prayed. And with eyes full of tears he
gazed up, and he heard with his bodily ears a Voice proceeding from
that Cross, saying thrice: “Francis, go and repair My House,
which, as thou seest, is falling utterly into ruin.” Francis
trembled, being alone in the church, and was astonished at the sound
of such a wondrous Voice, and, perceiving in his heart the might of
the divine speech, was carried out of himself in ecstasy. When at
length he came unto himself again, he prepared to obey, and devoted
himself wholly unto the behest to repair the material church;
howbeit, the principal intent of the message had regard unto that
Church which Christ had purchased with His own blood, even as the
Holy Spirit taught him, and as he himself afterward revealed unto the
Brethren.

Accordingly he rose up, and,
fortifying himself with the sign of the Cross, he put together cloth
stuffs for sale, and hastened unto the city that is called Foligno,
and there sold the goods that he had brought and the horse whereon he
had ridden. Then this joyful merchant, putting together his gains,
departed on his return for Assisi, and there did reverently enter the
church concerning whose repair he had received the command. Finding
there a poor priest, he shewed him due reverence, and proffered him
the money for the repair of the church, and the use of the poor,
humbly petitioning that he would permit him to sojourn with him for a
time. The priest granted him to sojourn there, but, for fear of his
parents, refused the money, whereupon that true despiser of monies
threw it on a window-ledge, valuing it no more than dust that is
trodden under foot.

2. But when his father learnt that
the servant of God was tarrying with the priest aforesaid, he was
sore vexed in spirit, and ran unto the place. And Francis, being yet
but a newly-recruited soldier of Christ, when he heard the threats of
them that pursued him, and knew beforehand of their coming, was fain
to give place unto wrath, and hid himself in a certain secret pit;
therein for some days he lay concealed, beseeching the Lord without
ceasing, and with floods of tears, that He would deliver his soul
from the hands of them that pursued him, and would by His gracious
favour fulfill the holy purposes wherewith He had inspired him. Then,
filled with an overflowing joy he began to blame himself for his
craven sloth, and, leaving his hiding-place, and casting aside his
fear, he took his way toward the city of Assisi. But when the
townsfolk beheld him unkempt in appearance, and changed in mind, and
on this account deemed him to have lost his senses, they rushed upon
him with mud of the streets and stones, and mocked him with loud
shouts as a fool and madman. But the servant of the Lord, not moved
or overborne by any insults, passed through all as one deaf unto
them. When his father heard these outcries, he ran out at once, not
to deliver him, but rather to destroy him; laying aside all
compunction, he dragged him into the house, and there afflicted him
first with words, then with stripes and bonds. But Francis was
thereby rendered but the more eager and valiant to carry out that
which he had begun, remembering that saying of the Gospel: “
Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness’ sake :
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

3. After a little space, on his
father’s departure from the country, his mother,—who
misliked her husband’s dealings, and deemed it hopeless to
soften the unyielding constancy of her son,—freed him from his
bonds, and let him go forth. Then he, giving thanks unto the Lord
Almighty, returned unto the place where he had been afore. When his
father returned, and found him not in the house, heaping reproaches
on his wife, he ran in fury unto that place, intending, if he could
not bring him back, at least to drive him from the province. But
Francis strengthened of God of his own accord came forth to meet his
raging father, crying aloud that he cared naught for his bonds and
stripes, yea more, protesting that he would gladly endure all
hardships for the sake of Christ. Accordingly, when his father saw
that he could not bring him back, he turned his thoughts unto the
recovery of the money, the which, when he had at length found it on
the window-ledge, somewhat soothed his rage, the thirst of avarice
being relieved, as it were, by a draught of money.

4. Then this father according unto
the flesh was fain to take this son of grace, now stripped of his
wealth, before the Bishop of the city, that into his hands he might
resign his claim unto his inheritance, and render up all that had
been his. This that true lover of poverty shewed himself right ready
to do, and coming into the Bishop’s presence, he brooked no
delays, he was kept back of none, tarried for no speech, nor spake
himself, but at once did off all his garments, and restored them unto
his father. Then was the man of God seen to have a hairshirt next his
skin under his rich apparel. Yea more, as one drunk with wondrous
fervour of spirit, he threw aside, even his breeches, and stood up
naked in the presence of all, saying unto his father: Hitherto I have
called thee my father on earth, but henceforth I can confidently say
‘Our Father, Which art in heaven,’ with Whom I have laid
up my whole treasure, and on Whom I have set my whole trust and
hope.” The Bishop, seeing this, and marvelling at such
exceeding fervour in the man of God, rose forthwith, and, weeping,
put his arms round him; then, devout and kindly man as he was,
covered him with the cloak wherewith he himself was clad, bidding his
servants give him something to clothe his limbs withal, and there was
brought unto him a mean and rough tunic of a farm-servant of the
Bishop. This Francis gladly received, and with his own hand marked it
with the sign of the Cross, with a piece of chalk that he chanced
upon, thus making it a garment meet for a man crucified, poor, and
half naked. Thus, then, the servant of the Most High King was left
despoiled, that he might follow the Lord Whom he loved. Who had been
despoiled and crucified; thus he was fortified with the Cross, that
he might entrust his soul unto that wood of salvation, that should
bring him forth unscathed from the shipwreck of the world.

5. Thereafter, this despiser of the
world, loosed from the bonds of worldly desires, left the city, and,
glad and free, sought an hidden solitude where he might hearken in
loneliness and silence unto the hid treasures of the divine converse.
And while the man of God, Francis, was making his way through a
certain wood, chanting praises unto the Lord in the French tongue,
and rejoicing, it chanced that some robbers rushed out on him from
their hiding-places. With fierce mien they asked the man of God who
he was, and he, full of confidence, gave a prophetic answer, saying :
“I am a herald of the great King.” Then they fell upon
him, and cast him into a ditch full of snow, crying: “Lie
there, lout, thou herald of God” But he, on their departure,
climbed out of the ditch, and, uplifted with exceeding gladness, with
yet louder voice began to make the woods echo with praises unto the
Creator of all.

6. When he came unto a neighbouring
monastery, he asked an alms as a beggar, and received it as one
unrecognised and despised. Departing thence, he came unto Gubbio,
where he was recognised and entertained by a friend of former days,
and was clad by him with a poor tunic, such as became the little poor
one of Christ.

Thence that lover of utterest
humility betook himself unto the lepers, and abode among them, with
all diligence serving them all for the love of God. He would bathe
their feet, and bind up their sores, drawing forth the corrupt matter
from their wounds, and wiping away the blood; yea, in his marvellous
devotion, he would even kiss their ulcerated wounds, he that was soon
to be a Gospel physician. Wherefore he obtained from the Lord such
power as that he received a marvellous efficacy in marvellously
cleansing both soul and body from disease. I will relate one instance
out of many, whereby the fame of the man of God was afterward bruited
abroad.

A man in the county of Spoleto had
his mouth and jaw eaten away by the ravages of a loathsome disease,
and received no succour from any remedy of the physicians. It chanced
that, after visiting the shrines of the holy Apostles to implore
their merits, he was returning from his pilgrimage, and met the
servant of God. When out of devotion he was to kiss his footprints,
Francis in his humility would not brook it, but kissed on the mouth
him that had been fain to kiss his feet. Lo, as in his wondrous
goodness the servant of the lepers, Francis, touched that loathsome
sore with his holy lips, the disease utterly vanished, and the sick
man at once regained his longed-for health. I know not which of these
twain is the more rightly to be marvelled at, the depth of humility
in such a gracious embrace, or the excellence of power in such an
astounding miracle.

7. Francis, now stablished in the
humility of Christ, recalled unto mind the obedience laid upon him by
the Crucifix as to the repairing of the church of Saint Damian, and
like one truly obedient returned unto Assisi, that he might, if even
by begging, obtain means to accomplish the divine behest. Laying
aside all shamefastness for the love of the Poor Man Crucified, he
went about begging from those who had known him in his affluence,
bearing the loads of stones on his frail body, worn with fasting.
When the church aforesaid had been repaired, the Lord helping him,
and the devotion of the citizens coming unto his aid,—that his
body after its toil might not relax in sloth, he turned to repair the
church of Saint Peter, at some distance from the city, by reason of
the especial devotion that in the purity of his candid faith he had
for the Prince of the Apostles.

8. When this church too was at length
finished he came unto the place that is called The Little Portion,
wherein a church had been reared in days of old in honour of the most
Blessed Virgin, Mother of God, but which was then deserted and cared
for by none. When the man of God beheld it thus abandoned, by reason
of the ardent devotion that he had toward the Sovereign Lady of the
world, he took up his abode there, that he might diligently labour to
repair it. Perceiving that Angels oft times visited it,—according
unto the name of that church, that from old time was called Saint
Mary of the Angels,—he abode there by reason of his reverence
for the Angels, and his especial love for the Mother of Christ. This
place the holy man loved before all other places in the world; for
here he began in humility, here he made progress in virtue, here he
ended in happiness, and, dying, commended it unto the Brethren as a
place most beloved of the Virgin. Concerning this place a certain
devout Brother, before his conversion, beheld a vision right worthy
to be recounted. He beheld a countless host of men stricken with
blindness, with their faces uplifted unto heaven, on bended knees,
encircling this church, and they all, stretching out their hands on
high, cried unto God with tears, beseeching His mercy and light. And
lo, there came a great radiance from heaven, illumining all, and this
gave light unto each one of them, and granted the longed-for
salvation. This is the place wherein the Order of Brothers Minor was
begun by Saint Francis according unto the impulse of the divine
revelation. For at the bidding of the divine providence, by the which
the servant of Christ was guided in all things, he built three
material churches before that, instituting the Order, he preached the
Gospel; thus not only did he make progress in ordered course from
things perceived by the senses unto things perceived by the
understanding, and from lesser things unto greater, but he did also
prefigure in mystic wise by his material labours the work that should
be wrought thereafter. For, like the thrice-repeated repairing of the
material fabric, the Church, under the guidance of the holy man, was
to be renewed in threefold wise, according unto the pattern given by
him, and the Rule, and teaching of Christ; and a triple army of such
as should be saved was to be triumphant, even as we now perceive to
be fulfilled.

Chapter III

OF THE FOUNDING OF HIS RELIGION, AND
SANCTION OF THE RULE

Now Francis, the servant of God,
abiding at the church of the Virgin Mother of God, with continuous
sighing besought her that had conceived the Word full of grace and
truth that she would deign to become his advocate; and, by the
merits of the Mother of Mercy, he did himself conceive and give
birth unto the spirit of Gospel truth. For while on a day he was
devoutly hearing the Mass of the Apostles, that Gospel was read
aloud wherein Christ gave unto His disciples that were sent forth to
preach the Gospel pattern for their life, to wit, that they should
possess neither gold, nor silver, nor money in their purses, nor
scrip for their journey, neither two coats, neither shoes, nor yet
staves. Hearing this, and understanding it, and committing it unto
memory, the lover of Apostolic poverty was at once filled with joy
unspeakable. “This,” saith he, “is what I desire,
yea, this is what I long for with my whole heart.” Forthwith
he loosed his shoes from off his feet, laid down his staff, cast
aside his purse and his money, contented him with one scanty tunic,
and, throwing aside his belt, took a rope for girdle, applying all
the care of his heart to discover how best he might fulfill that
which he had heard, and conform himself in all things unto the rule
of Apostolic godliness.

2. From this time forward, the man of
God began, by divine impulse, to become a jealous imitator of Gospel
poverty and to invite others unto penitence. His words were not
empty, nor meet for laughter, but full of the might of the Holy
Spirit, penetrating the heart’s core, and smiting all that
heard them with mighty amaze. In all his preaching, he would bring
tidings of peace, saying: “The Lord give you peace,” and
thus he would greet the folk at the beginning of his discourses. This
greeting he had learnt by revelation from the Lord, even as he
himself did afterward testify. Whence it befell, according unto the
prophet’s words, that he—himself inspired by the spirit
of the prophets—brought tidings of peace, and preached
salvation, and by salutary admonitions allied many unto the true
peace who aforetime were at enmity with Christ, far from salvation.

3. Accordingly, as many remarked in
the man of God alike the truth of his simple teaching and of his
life, certain of them began by his ensample to turn their thoughts
unto penitence, and, renouncing all, to join themselves unto him in
habit and life. The first of these was that honour-worthy man,
Bernard, who, being made a partaker in the divine calling, earned the
title of the firstborn son of the blessed Father, both by being first
in time, and by being of an especial holiness. For he, having proved
the saintliness of the servant of Christ, was minded after his
ensample to utterly despise the world, and sought counsel from him
how he might accomplish this. Hearing this, the servant of God was
filled with consolation by reason of his first offspring conceived of
the Holy Spirit. “From God,” saith he, “behoveth us
seek this counsel.” Forthwith, when it was morning, they
entered into the church of Saint Nicholas, and, having first prayed,
Francis, the worshipper of the Trinity, did thrice open the book of
the Gospels, seeking by a threefold witness from God to strengthen
the holy purpose of Bernard. In the first opening of the book was
discovered that saying: “If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell
that thou hast, and give to the poor.” In the second: “Take
nothing for your journey.” And in the third: “If any man
will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and
follow Me.” “This,” saith the holy man, “is
our life and Rule, and that of all that shall be minded to join our
fellowship. Do thou go, then, if thou wilt be perfect, and fulfill
that which thou hast heard.”

4. Not long after, five men were
called by the same Spirit, and thus the sons of Francis numbered six;
the third place among them fell unto the holy Father Giles, a man
verily filled with God and worthy to be famed in remembrance. For he
became afterward noted for the practice of lofty virtues, even as the
servant of the Lord had foretold concerning him, and, albeit he was
ignorant and simple, he was exalted unto the peak of sublime
contemplation. For while for a long space of time he was continuously
absorbed in uplifting of the heart unto God, he was so often snatched
up unto Him in ecstasies,—even as I myself beheld with the
witness of mine own eyes,—that he might be deemed to live among
men an angelic rather than a mortal life.

5. Moreover, about that same time, a
certain priest of the city of Assisi, Silvester by name, a man of
honourable life, received of the Lord a vision not to be passed over
in silence. For since, in his finite judgment, he had looked askance
at the manner of life of Francis and his Brethren, he was
visited,—lest he should be imperiled by his rash verdict,—by
the regard of the heavenly grace. For in a dream he beheld the whole
city of Assisi beset by a great dragon, whose huge bulk seemed to
threaten all the countryside with destruction. Then he saw a Cross of
gold proceeding out of the mouth of Francis, the top whereof touched
heaven, and its arms outstretched at the side seemed to reach unto
the ends of the world, and at its glittering aspect that foul and
loathly dragon was utterly put to flight. When this had been thrice
shewn unto him, he deemed it a divine portent, and related it in
order unto the man of God and his Brethren; and no long time
thereafter he left the world, and clave so constantly unto the
footsteps of Christ as that his life in the Order rendered true the
vision that he had received while yet in the world.

6. When this vision was related unto
him, the man of God was not puffed up with the glorying of men, but,
recognising the goodness of God in the favours shewn unto him, he was
the more keenly incited to repel the craft of the ancient enemy, and
to preach the glory of the Cross of Christ. Now on a day, while in a
certain lonely place he was bitterly bewailing the remembrance of
past years, the joy of the Holy Spirit came upon him, and he was
assured of the full remission of all his offences. Then, carried out
of himself, and wholly wrapt into a marvellous light, the horizons of
his mind were enlarged, and he clearly beheld the future story of
himself and of his sons. Returning after this unto the Brethren, “
Be consoled,” saith he, “my dearest, and rejoice in the
Lord, and be not sad for that ye be few in number, nor let my
simpleness nor your own make you afeared, for the Lord hath verily
shewn me that God will cause us to wax into a great host, and will
enlarge us in manifold wise with the grace of His blessing.”

7. Whereas about this time another
good man did enter the Religion, the blessed family of the man of God
reached the number of seven. Then the holy Father called all his sons
unto him and told them many things concerning the Kingdom of God, the
contempt of the world, the sacrifice of their own wills and the
chastisement of the body, and did lay before them his intent of
sending them forth into the four quarters of the worlds For now the
barren and poor humble simpleness of the holy Father had brought
forth seven sons and he was fain to give birth unto the whole company
of the faithful in the Lord Christ, calling them unto the mourning of
penitence. “Go ye,” saith the sweet Father unto his sons,
“bringing tidings of peace unto men, and preach repentance for
the remission of sins. Be ye patient in tribulation, watchful unto
prayer, zealous in toil, humble in speech, sober in manner, and
thankful for kindnesses, seeing that for all these an everlasting
kingdom is prepared for you.” Then they, humbly prostrating
themselves on the ground before the servant of God, received with
gladness of spirit the behest of holy obedience. And Francis said
unto each one singly: “Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and He
shall sustain thee.” He was wont to say these words whensoever
he was guiding any Brother unto obedience. Then he himself, knowing
that he was set as an ensample unto the rest, that he might first do
that which he had taught, set forth with one companion toward one
quarter of the world, the remaining six being apportioned, after the
fashion of a Cross, unto the other three parts. After some little
time had passed, the kindly Father, longing for the presence of his
beloved family,—since he could not of himself call them
together into one place,—prayed that this might be accomplished
by Him Who gathereth together the outcasts of Israel. And this came
to pass. For, with no mortal summoning, and all unexpectedly, within
a short time all came together according as he had desired, by the
effectual working of the divine goodness, and to their no small
marvel. Moreover, as four other honourable men joined them about that
time, their number increased unto twelve.

8. Now when the servant of Christ
perceived that the number of the Brethren was gradually increasing,
he wrote for himself and for his Brethren a Rule for their life, in
simple words. Herein the observance of the Holy Gospel was set as the
inseparable foundation, and some few other points were added that
seemed necessary for a consistent manner of life. But he was fain
that what he had written should be approved by the Supreme Pontiff,
wherefore he purposed to approach the Apostolic See with that his
company of simple men, relying only on the divine guidance. God from
on high had regard unto his desire, and fortified the minds of his
companions, that were afeared at the thought of his simpleness, by a
vision shewn unto the man of God after this wise. It seemed unto him
that he was walking along a certain road, near by which stood a very
lofty tree. When he had drawn nigh unto it, and was standing beneath
it, wondering at its height, on a sudden he was so raised on high by
the divine might as that he touched the top of the tree, and bent
down its highest branches unto its roots right easily. The portent of
this vision Francis, filled with the Spirit of God, understood to
refer unto the stooping of the Apostolic See unto his desire;
wherefore he was gladdened in spirit, and his Brethren were
strengthened in the Lord, and thus he set forth with them on the
journey.

9. Now when he had come unto the
Roman Curia, and had been introduced into the presence of the Supreme
Pontiff, he expounded unto him his intent, humbly and earnestly
beseeching him to sanction the Rule aforesaid for their life. And the
Vicar of Christ, the lord Innocent the Third, a man exceeding
renowned for wisdom, beholding in the man of God the wondrous purity
of a simple soul, constancy unto his purpose, and the enkindled
fervour of a holy will, was disposed to give unto the suppliant his
fatherly sanction. Howbeit, he delayed to perform that which the
little poor one of Christ asked, by reason that unto some of the
Cardinals this seemed a thing untried, and too hard for human
strength. But there was present among the Cardinals an honour-worthy
man, the lord John of Saint Paul, Bishop of Sabina, a lover of all
holiness, and an helper of the poor men of Christ. He, inflamed by
the Divine Spirit, said unto the Supreme Pontiff, and unto his
colleagues: “If we refuse the request of this poor man as a
thing too hard, and untried, when his petition is that the pattern of
Gospel life may be sanctioned for him, let us beware lest we stumble
at the Gospel of Christ. For if any man saith that in the observance
of Gospel perfection, and the vowing thereof, there is contained
aught that is untried, or contrary unto reason, or impossible to
observe, he is clearly seen to blaspheme against Christ, the author
of the Gospel.” When these arguments had been set forth, the
successor of the Apostle Peter, turning unto the poor man of Christ,
said: “Pray unto Christ, my son, that He may shew us His will
through thee, and when we know it more surely, we will more
confidently assent unto thy holy desires.”

10. Then the servant of God Almighty,
betaking himself wholly unto prayer, gained by devout intercession
that which he might set forth outwardly, and the Pope feel inwardly.
For when he had narrated a parable of a rich King that had of free
will espoused a fair woman that was poor, and how the children she
bare shewed the likeness of the King that begat them, and so were
brought up at his table, even as he had learnt this of the Lord,—he
added, as an interpretation thereof: “It is not to be feared
that the sons and heirs of the everlasting King will perish of
hunger, even they that have been born of a poor mother in the
likeness of the King, Christ, by the power of the Holy Spirit, and
that shall themselves beget sons through the spirit of Poverty in a
little poor Religion. For if the King of heaven hath promised an
everlasting kingdom unto them that follow Him, how much more shall He
provide for them those things that He bestoweth alike on the good and
on the evil?” When the Vicar of Christ had diligently hearkened
unto this parable, and the interpretation thereof, he marvelled
greatly, and perceived that Christ had of a truth spoken through a
man. Moreover, he maintained, by the inspiration of the Divine
Spirit, that a vision that at that time was shewn unto him from
heaven would be fulfilled in Francis. For in a dream he saw, as he
recounted, the Lateran Basilica about to fall, when a little poor
man, of mean stature and humble aspect, propped it with his own back,
and thus saved it from falling. “Verily,” saith he, “he
it is that by his work and teaching shall sustain the Church of
Christ.” From this vision, he was filled with an especial
devotion unto him, and in all ways disposed himself unto his
supplication, and ever loved the servant of Christ with an especial
affection. Then and there he granted his request, and promised at a
later day to bestow yet more upon him. He sanctioned the Rule, and
gave him a command to preach repentance, and made all the lay
Brethren that had accompanied the servant of God wear narrow
tonsures, that they might preach the word of God without hindrance.

Chapter IV

OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF THE ORDER UNDER HIS
HAND, AND OF THE CONFIRMATION OF THE RULE ALREADY SANCTIONED

1. Thenceforward Francis, relying on
the favour of heaven and on the Papal authority, took his way with
all confidence toward the valley of Spoleto, that he might both live
and teach the Gospel of Christ. While he was holding converse with
his companions on the road, as to how they might observe in sincerity
the Rule that they had professed, and how in all holiness and
righteousness they might walk before God, how they might progress
among themselves, and be an ensample unto others,—their
discussion was prolonged, and the hours slipped by. And at last they
found themselves, wearied with the length of their toilsome way, and
an hungered, in a certain lonely place. Then verily, when there was
no means whereby they might provide them with the needful food, the
providence of God came speedily unto their aid. For, on a sudden,
there appeared a man carrying bread in his hand, the which he gave
unto the little poor ones of Christ, and, also on a sudden, vanished,
without any man knowing whence he came or whither he went. Hereby the
Brethren in their poverty perceived that the guardian care of heaven
was about the company of the man of God, and were refreshed more by
the gift of the divine bounty than by the food of the body; moreover,
they were filled with heavenly comfort, and firmly resolved, and
strengthened themselves in the irrevocable determination, never to
retreat from their vow of holy poverty for any goad of necessity or
affliction.

2. Thus they returned in their holy
intent unto the valley of Spoleto, and began to discuss whether they
ought to live among men, or to betake them unto lonely places. But
Francis, the servant of Christ, trusting not in his own efforts or
those of his Brethren, with importunate prayer enquired the pleasure
of the divine will concerning this. Then he was illumined by a
divinely revealed oracle, and understood that he had been sent of the
Lord unto this end, that he might win for Christ the souls that the
devil was striving to carry off. Wherefore he chose to live rather
for all men than for his single self, inspired by the ensample of Him
Who brooked to die, One Man for all.

3. Accordingly, the man of God
returned with the rest of his companions unto a certain deserted hut
nigh the city of Assisi, wherein, after the pattern of Holy Poverty,
they lived in much toil and necessity, seeking to be refreshed rather
with the bread of tears than of luxury. For they gave themselves up
continuously unto divine prayers, being earnest in the practice of
devout intercession—of the heart rather than of the lips—for
they had not yet any ecclesiastical books wherein they might chant
the Canonical Hours. Howbeit, in the place of such, they meditated
day and night on the book of the Cross of Christ, continuously
looking thereupon, by the ensample of their Father, and taught by his
discourse, for he continually spake unto them concerning the Cross of
Christ. When the Brethren besought him to teach them to pray, he
said: “When ye pray, say ‘Our Father,’ and: ‘We
adore Thee, O Christ, in all Thy churches that be in the whole world,
and we bless Thee for that by Thy holy Cross Thou hast redeemed the
world.’” Moreover, he taught them to praise God in all
things and through all His creatures, to reverence priests with an
especial honour, to firmly hold and simply confess the true faith,
according as the Holy Roman Church doth both hold and teach it. The
Brethren observed the instructions of the holy Father in all things,
and, using the form of prayer that he had given unto them, would
humbly prostrate themselves before all churches and crosses that they
beheld, were it even from a distance.

4. Now while the Brethren were
abiding in the place aforesaid, the holy man one Saturday entered the
city of Assisi, to preach early on the Sunday, as was his wont, in
the Cathedral Church. While the man devoted unto God was passing the
night, after his wonted manner, in a hut within the Canons’
garden, praying unto God, and absent in the body from his sons,—lo,
about midnight, while some of the Brethren were taking rest, others
keeping vigil in prayer, a chariot of fire of marvellous brightness,
entering by the door of the house, turned thrice hither and thither
through the dwelling, and over the chariot a shining ball of fire
rested, in appearance like unto the sun, making the night radiant.
The watchful Brethren were astounded, they that slept were awakened
and alarmed at the same moment, and felt the light no less in their
hearts than with their bodies, while by the power of that marvellous
brightness the conscience of each was laid bare unto his fellow. For
they all understood alike,—all seeing in turn the hearts of
each,—that their holy Father was absent from them in body, but
present in spirit, and that, transformed into such a likeness,
illumined with heavenly rays, and flaming with ardent heat, he was
shewn unto them of the Lord with supernatural might in a shining
chariot of fire; so that they, as Israelites indeed, might follow
after him who, like another Elias, had been made by God the chariot
and the horseman of spiritual men. We must verily believe that He
opened the eyes of those simple men at the prayers of Francis, that
they might see the mighty deeds of God, Who aforetime opened the eyes
of the young man that he might see the mountain full of horses and
chariots of fire round about Elisha. When the holy man returned unto
the Brethren, he began to scrutinise the secret things of their
consciences, to console them with that marvellous vision, and to
foretell many things that should come to pass concerning the progress
of the Order. And as he revealed many things surpassing mortal sense,
the Brethren perceived of a truth that the Spirit of the Lord had
rested upon His servant Francis in such fulness as that they would
walk most securely in following his teaching and life.

5. After this, Francis, shepherd of a
little flock, led his band of twelve Brethren unto Saint Mary of the
Little Portion,—the favour of heaven going before him,—that
in the place wherein, by the merits of the Mother of God, the Order
of Minors had taken its beginning, it might by her aid gain an
increase. There too he became an herald of the Gospel, going round
among cities and fortified places, proclaiming the Kingdom of God,
not in the words which man’s wisdom teacheth, but which the
Holy Ghost teacheth. He seemed unto them that beheld him a man of
another world, one, to wit, that had his heart ever set on heaven,
and his face turned toward it, and that endeavoured to draw all men
upwards. From this time, the vine of Christ began to bring forth
pleasant savour of the Lord, and the flowers produced therefrom
became the rich fruit of sweetness, honour, and righteousness.

6. For, enkindled by the fervour of
his preaching, very many folk bound themselves by new rules of
penitence, after the pattern received from the man of God, and that
same servant of Christ ordained that their manner of living should be
called the Order of the Brethren of Penitence. Of a truth, even as
the way of penitence is known to be common unto all that strive after
heaven, so it is noted of how much worth in the sight of God was this
Order, embracing clerks and laymen, virgins, and married folk of
either sex, by the many miracles wrought by some of its members. And
there were maidens converted unto lifelong virginity, among whom that
virgin dearest unto God, Clare, the first plant among them, like a
snowy spring blossom breathed fragrance, and shone like a star
exceeding bright. She is now glorified in heaven, and rightly
honoured by the Church on earth, she that was the daughter in Christ
of the holy Father Francis, the little poor one, and herself the
Mother of the Poor Ladies.

7. Now many were not only smitten
with devotion, but also kindled by yearning after the perfection of
Christ, and, despising all the vanity of worldly things, followed in
the footsteps of Francis; and these, increasing by daily additions,
speedily reached unto the ends of the earth. For holy Poverty, whom
alone they took with them for their charges, made them swift unto all
obedience, strong to labour, and speedy in journeying. And since they
possessed no earthly things they set their affections on naught, and
had naught that they feared to lose; they were everywhere at ease,
weighed down by no fear, harassed by no care; they lived like men who
were removed from vexations of the mind, and, taking no thought for
it, awaited the morrow, and their night’s lodging. Many
reproaches were hurled upon them in divers regions of the world, as
on men contemptible and unknown; howbeit, their love for the Gospel
of Christ rendered them so longsuffering as that they sought rather
to be in places where they would endure persecution in the body, than
in those where their saintliness was recognised, and where they might
be puffed up by the applause of the world. Their very destitution of
possessions seemed unto them overflowing wealth, while, according
unto the counsel of the Wise King, they were better pleased with
little than with much.

On a time when some of the Brethren
had come unto the regions of the infidels, it chanced that a certain
Saracen, moved by kindly feeling, offered them money for their
needful food. And when they refused to take it, the man marvelled,
perceiving that they were penniless. But when at last he understood
that they had become poor for the love of God and were resolved not
to own money, he associated himself with them in such affection as
that he offered to supply all their needs, so long as he should have
aught in his possession. O priceless value of poverty, by whose
marvellous power the mind of a fierce barbarian was changed into such
compassionate gentleness! How appalling and scandalous a crime it is,
that any Christian should trample on this rare pearl, that a Saracen
exalted with such honour!

8. About that time, a certain
Religious of the Order of Crossbearers, Morico by name, was lying in
an hospital hard by Assisi suffering from an infirmity so serious and
so protracted as that he was given up unto death by the physicians;
he became a suppliant of the man of God, beseeching him earnestly
through a messenger that he would deign to intercede with the Lord on
his behalf. The blessed Father graciously acceded thereunto, and,
having first prayed, took some crumbs of bread, and mixed with them
some oil taken from the lamp that burned before the altar of the
Virgin, and sent it by the hand of the Brethren unto the sick man, as
though it were an electuary, saying: “Carry this medicament
unto our brother Morico, by the which the power of Christ shall not
only restore him unto full health, but shall also render him an hardy
warrior, who shall cleave with constancy unto our ranks.”
Forthwith, so soon as the sick man tasted of that remedy made by
inspiration of the Holy Spirit, he rose up healed, and gained from
God such strength of mind and body as that shortly thereafter he
entered the Religion of the holy man, and, clothing himself with one
tunic alone—beneath the which he wore for a long space of time
a shirt of mail—and satisfied with but uncooked fare,—herbs
to wit, and vegetables and fruits,—he thus for many years
tasted neither bread nor wine, and yet remained strong and sound.

9. As the merits of the virtues of
these little ones of Christ waxed greater, the fragrance of their
good repute was spread on all sides, and drew much folk from divers
parts of the world to see the holy Father in person. Among whom was a
certain skilled composer of secular songs, who by reason of this gift
had been crowned by the Emperor, and thence called “King of
Verse,” and he now was minded to seek the man of God, the
despiser of worldly things. And when he had found him preaching in a
Monastery at Borgo San Severino, the hand of the Lord was upon him,
and he beheld that same preacher of the Cross of Christ, Francis,
marked after the likeness of a Cross with two exceeding shining
swords set crosswise, whereof the one reached from his head unto his
feet, the other across his breast from hand to hand. He had not known
the servant of Christ by face, but speedily recognised him when
signalled out by so great a portent. Forthwith, all astonied at this
sight, he began to resolve on better things, and, at length, pricked
by the power of his words, and pierced as though by the sword of the
Spirit proceeding out of his mouth, he did utterly despise worldly
glories, and clave unto the blessed Father, professing his vows.
Wherefore the holy num, seeing that he had utterly turned from the
disquiet of the world unto the peace of Christ, called him Brother
Pacifico. He afterward made progress in all holiness, and, before
that he became Minister in France,—being the first who held the
office of Minister there,—he merited to behold once more a
great T on the forehead of Francis, the which, marked out by a
diversity of colours, adorned his face with its marvellous beauty.
This sign, in sooth, the holy man revered with deep affection,
praised it often in his discourse, and, in the letters that he
dictated, signed it with his own hand at the end, as though all his
care was, in the prophet’s words, to set a mark upon the
foreheads of the men that sigh and that cry, and that be truly
converted unto Christ Jesus.

10. Now as time went by, and the
Brethren were multiplied, their watchful shepherd began to call them
together unto Chapters General in the place of Saint Mary of the
Little Portion, so that, God dividing them an inheritance by line in
the land of poverty, he might allot unto each his portion of
obedience. Here, albeit there was destitution of all things needful,
a company of more than 5,000 Brethren came together at one time, and,
the divine mercy succouring them, there was both a sufficiency of
victual, and bodily health together with it, while gladness of spirit
abounded. In the provincial Chapters, albeit Francis could not there
shew himself present in the body, yet in spirit—by his zealous
care for their ruling, by his urgency in prayer, and the efficacy of
his blessing—he was present there; yea, and once, by the
operation o£ God’s marvellous power, he did visibly
appear. For while that glorious preacher, who is now a noted
Confessor of Christ, Antony, was preaching unto the Chapter of the
Brethren at Arles on the title inscribed on the Cross: “Jesus
of Nazareth, the King of the Jews,” a certain Brother of proved
uprightness, Monaldo by name, looking, by a divine impulse, toward
the door of the Chapter-house, beheld with his bodily eyes the
Blessed Francis uplifted in the air, his hands outstretched after the
manner of a Cross, blessing the Brethren. All the Brethren felt that
they had been filled with a consolation of spirit so great and so new
as that the Spirit bore indubitable witness within them of the true
presence of the holy Father, albeit this was further assured, not
alone by manifest tokens, but also by external testimony through the
words of that same holy Father. We must verily believe that the
almighty power of God,—that vouchsafed unto the holy Bishop
Ambrose to be present at the burial of the glorious Martin, that he
might honour the holy Pontiff with his holy ministry,-—did also
make His servant Francis to appear at the preaching of His true
herald Antony, that he might sanction his preaching of the truth, and
in especial his preaching of the Cross of Christ, whereof he was a
supporter and servant.

11. Now as the Order was spreading
abroad, Francis was minded to make the Rule of their life, that the
lord Innocent had sanctioned, be confirmed in perpetuity by his
successor Honorius, and he was admonished by a revelation from God on
this wise. He seemed unto himself to have gathered from the ground
some very small crumbs of bread, and to have to part them among many
famished Brethren that stood round about him. While he hesitated,
fearing to part among them such minute crumbs, lest haply they might
slip between his hands, a Voice from above said unto him: “Francis,
make one Host out of all the crumbs, and give it unto these that
would fain eat.” This he did, and such as did not receive it
devoutly, or despised the gift as they received it, were speedily
stricken with leprosy, and so marked out from the rest. At morn, the
holy man narrated all these things unto his companions, grieving that
he could not interpret the mystic meaning of the vision. But on the
day following, as he kept prayerful vigil, he heard a Voice speaking
unto him from heaven on this wise: “Francis, the crumbs of the
night past are the words of the Gospel, the Host is the Rule, the
leprosy is sin.” Being fain, therefore, to reduce unto more
convenient form the Rule that was to be confirmed,—it having
been somewhat diffusely compiled by putting together the words of the
Gospel,—and being directed thereunto by the vision that had
been shewn him, he went up into a certain mountain with two
companions, the Holy Spirit leading him. There, fasting, or living on
bread and water alone, he made the Rule be compiled, according unto
what the divine Spirit had taught him in prayer. When he came down
from the mountain, he entrusted this Rule unto the keeping of his
Vicar, who, when a few days had gone by, affirmed that he had lost it
through negligence. Then the holy man returned unto the lonely place,
and there drew up the Rule again, like the former one, as though he
had received the very words from the mouth of God; and he obtained
its confirmation, as he had desired, from the lord Pope Honorius
aforesaid, in the eighth year of his pontificate. When persuading the
Brethren with ardour to observe this Rule, he would say that he had
set naught therein of his own devising, but that he had made all
things be written according as they had been divinely revealed unto
him. And that this might be more assuredly confirmed by the witness
of God, it was but a few days thereafter that the stigmata of the
Lord Jesus were imprinted upon him by the finger of the Living
God,—the seal, as it were, of the Chief Pontiff, Christ, to
sanction in all ways the Rule, and to approve its author, even as is
described in its own place below, after the recital of his virtues.

Chapter V

OF THE AUSTERITY OF HIS LIFE, AND OF HOW ALL
CREATED THINGS AFFORDED HIM COMFORT

1. When therefore the man of God,
Francis, perceived that by his ensample many were incited to bear the
Cross of Christ with fervour of soul, he himself was incited, like a
good leader of the army of Christ, to reach unto the palm of victory
by the heights of unconquered valour. For, considering that saying of
the Apostle: “They that are Christ’s have crucified the
flesh with the affections and lusts,” and being fain to wear
the armour of the Cross upon his body, he restrained his sensual
appetites with such strict discipline as that he would barely take
what was necessary to support life. For he was wont to say that it
was difficult to satisfy the needs of the body without yielding unto
the inclinations of the senses. Wherefore he would hardly, and but
seldom, allow himself cooked food when m health, and, when he did
allow it, he would either sprinkle it with ashes, or by pouring water
thereupon would as far as possible destroy its savour and taste. Of
his drinking of wine what shall I say, when even of water he would
scarce drink what he needed, while parched with burning thirst? He
was always discovering methods of more rigorous abstinence, and would
daily make progress in their use, and albeit he had already attained
the summit of perfection, yet, like a novice, he was ever making
trial of some new method, chastising the lusts of the flesh by
afflicting it. Howbeit, when he went forth abroad, he adapted
himself,—as the Gospel biddeth,—unto them that
entertained him, in the quality of their meats, yet only so as that,
on his return unto his own abode, he strictly observed the sparing
frugality of abstinence. In this wise he shewed himself harsh toward
his own self, gracious toward his neighbour, and in all things
subject unto the Gospel of Christ, and did thus set an ensample of
edification, not alone by his abstinence, but even in what he ate.
The bare ground for the most part served as a couch unto his wearied
body, and he would often sleep sitting, with a log or a stone placed
under his head, and, clad in one poor tunic, he served the Lord in
cold and nakedness.

2. Once when he was asked how in such
scant clothing he could protect him from the bitterness of the
winter’s cold, he made answer in fervour of spirit: “If
through our yearning for the heavenly fatherland we have been
inwardly kindled by its flame, we can easily endure this bodily
cold.” He abhorred softness in clothing, and loved harshness,
declaring that for this John the Baptist had been praised by the
Divine lips. In sooth, if ever he perceived smoothness in a tunic
that was given him, he had it lined with small cords, for he would
say that, according unto the Word of Truth, it was not in poor men’s
huts, but in Kings’ houses, that softness of raiment was to be
sought. And he had learnt by sure experience that the devils be
afeared of hardness, but that by luxury and softness they be the more
keenly incited to tempt men.

Accordingly, one night when by reason
of an infirmity in his head and eyes he had, contrary unto his wont,
a pillow of feathers placed beneath his head, the devil entered
thereinto, and vexed him until the morning hour, distracting him in
divers ways from his exercise of holy prayer; until, calling his
companion, he made the pillow and the devil withal be carried afar
from the cell. But as the Brother was leaving the cell, carrying the
pillow, he lost the power and use of all his limbs, until, at the
voice of the holy Father, who perceived this in spirit, his former
powers of mind and body were fully restored unto him.

3. Stern in discipline, Francis stood
continually upon the watch-tower, having especial care unto that
purity that should be maintained in both the inner and the outer man.
Wherefore, in the early days of his conversion, he was wont in the
winter season to plunge into a ditch full of snow, that he might both
utterly subdue the foe within him, and might preserve his white robe
of chastity from the fire of lust. He would maintain that it was
beyond compare more tolerable for a spiritual man to bear intense
cold in his body, than to feel the heat of carnal lust, were it but a
little, in his mind.

4. When he was at the hermitage of
Sartiano, and had one night devoted himself unto prayer in his cell,
the ancient enemy called him, saying thrice : “ Francis,
Francis, Francis.” When he had enquired of him what he sought,
that other made reply to deceive him: “There is no sinner in
the world whom God would not spare, should he turn unto Him. But
whoso killeth himself by harsh penance, shall find no mercy
throughout eternity.” Forthwith the man of God perceived by
revelation the deceits of the enemy, and how he had striven to render
him once more lukewarm. And this the following event proved. For but
a little after this, at the instigation of him whose breath kindleth
coals, a grievous temptation of the flesh laid hold on him. When the
lover of chastity felt its oncoming, he laid aside his habit, and
began to scourge himself severely with a cord, saying: “Ah,
brother ass, thus must thou be led, thus must thou submit unto the
lash. The habit is the servant of Religion, it is a token of
holiness, the sensual man may not steal it; if thou art fain to go
forth anywhither, go!” Then, impelled by a marvellous fervour
of spirit, he threw open the door of his cell, and went out into the
garden, where, plunging his now naked body into a great snow-heap, he
began to pile up there from with full hands seven mounds, the which
he set before him, and thus addressed his outer man: “Behold,
(saith he), this larger heap is thy wife, these four be two sons and
two daughters, the other twain be a serving man and maid, that thou
must needs have to serve thee. Now bestir thee and clothe them, for
they be perishing with cold. But if manifold cares on their behalf
trouble thee, do thou be careful to serve the one Lord.” Then
the tempter departed, routed, and the holy man returned unto his cell
victorious, in that, by enduring the external cold in right penitent
fashion, he had so extinguished the fire of lust within that
thereafter he felt it no whit. Now a Brother, who at the time was
devoting himself unto prayer, beheld all these things by the light of
a clear shining moon. When the man of God discovered that he had seen
these things on that night, he revealed unto him how that temptation
had befallen him, and bade him tell no man, so long as he himself
lived, the thing that he had seen.

5. And not only did he teach that the
appetites of the body must be mortified, and its impulses bridled,
but also that the outer senses, through the which death entereth into
the soul, must be guarded with the utmost watchfulness. He bade that
intimate intercourse with women, holding converse with them, and
looking upon them—the which be unto many an occasion of
falling—should be zealously shunned, declaring that by such
things a weak spirit is broken, and a strong one ofttimes weakened.
He said that one who held converse with women—unless he were of
an especial uprightness—could as little avoid contamination
therefrom as he could, in the words of Scripture, go upon hot coals
and his feet not be burned. He himself so turned away his eyes that
they might not behold vanity after this sort that he knew the
features of scarce any woman,—thus he once told a companion.
For he thought it was not safe to dwell on the appearance of their
persons, that might either rekindle a spark of the vanquished flesh,
or spot the radiance of a chaste mind. For he maintained that
converse with women was a vain toy, except only for confession or the
briefest instruction, such as made for salvation, and was in accord
with decorum. “What dealings,” saith he, “should a
Religious have with a woman, except when she seeketh, with devout
supplication, after holy penitence, or counsel anent a better life?
In overweening confidence, the enemy is less dreaded, and the devil,
if so be that he can have a hair of his own in a man, soon maketh it
wax into a beam.”

6. He taught the Brothers zealously
to shun sloth, as the sink of all evil thoughts, shewing by his
ensample that the rebellious and idle body must be subdued by
unceasing discipline and profitable toil. Wherefore he would call his
body “brother ass,” as though it were meet to be loaded
with toilsome burdens, beaten with many stripes, and nourished on
mean fare. If he beheld any man wandering about in idleness, and fain
to feed on the toil of others, he thought he ought to be called
“brother fly,” for that, doing no good himself, and
spoiling the good done by others, he made himself an hateful pest
unto all. Wherefore he ofttimes said: “ I would that my
Brethren should labour and employ themselves, lest, being given up
unto sloth, they should stray into sins of heart or tongue.” He
was minded that a Gospel silence should be observed by the Brethren,
such as, to wit, that they should at all times diligently refrain
from every idle word, as those that shall give account thereof in the
Day of Judgement. But if he found any Brother prone unto vain words,
he would sharply chide him, declaring a shamefast sparingness of
speech to be the guard of a pure heart, and no small virtue, seeing
that death and life are in the power of the tongue, not so much with
regard unto taste as with regard unto speech.

7. But albeit he sought with all his
might to lead the Brethren unto the austere life, yet the utmost
rigour of severity pleased him not,—such rigour as hath no
bowels of compassion, nor is flavoured with the salt of discretion.
Thus, on a certain night, when one of the Brethren by reason of his
excessive abstinence was so tormented by hunger that he could take no
repose, the kindly shepherd, perceiving the danger that threatened
his sheep, called the Brother, set bread before him, and, that he
might remove any cause for his confusion of face, began first to eat
himself, then gently bade him partake. The Brother, laying aside his
shamefastness, took the food, rejoicing exceedingly that, through the
wise kindliness of his shepherd, he had both escaped that bodily
peril, and had received no small ensample of edification withal. When
morning came, and the Brethren had been called together, the man of
God related that which had befallen in the night, adding the sage
exhortation: “Be the act of love, not the food, an ensample
unto you, my Brethren.” Moreover, he taught them to follow
discretion, as the charioteer of the virtues,—not that
discretion unto which the flesh persuadeth, but that which Christ
taught, Whose most holy life is acknowledged to be the express image
of perfection.

8. And since it is not possible for a
man beset with the infirmity of the flesh so perfectly to follow the
Crucified Lamb without spot as to escape contracting some defilement,
by his own firm ensample he made declaration that they who keep watch
over the perfection of their life ought to cleanse themselves daily
with floods of tears. For, albeit he had already attained a wondrous
purity of heart and body, yet would he not abstain from continual
floods of tears whereby to cleanse the mental vision, not weighing
the detriment unto his bodily sight. For when by incessant weeping he
had sustained a very grievous injury unto the eyes, and the physician
would fain have persuaded him to refrain from tears, if he wished to
escape blindness of his bodily sight, the holy man made answer: “It
is not meet, brother physician, that for the love of that light that
we have in common with the flies, the visitation of the eternal light
should be impaired, be it but by little. For the spirit did not
receive the blessing of light for the sake of the flesh, but the
flesh for the sake of the spirit.” He preferred rather to lose
the light of his bodily vision than, by thwarting the devotion of the
spirit, to check the tears whereby the inner eye is cleansed, that it
may avail to see God.

9. Now on a time when he was
counselled by the physicians, and urgently importuned by the
Brethren, to permit himself to be succoured by the remedy of a
cautery, the man of God did humbly assent thereunto, forasmuch as he
perceiyed it to be alike salutary and arduous. The surgeon, then, was
summoned, and, having come, laid his iron instrument in the fire to
prepare for the cautery. Then the servant of Christ,—consoling
his body that at the sight shuddered in fear,—began to address
the fire as a friend, saying: “My brother fire, the Most High
hath created thee beyond all other creatures mighty in thine enviable
glory, fair, and useful. Be thou clement unto me in this hour, and
courteous. I beseech the great Lord, Who created thee, that He temper
thy heat unto me, so that I may be able to bear thy gentle burning.”
His prayer ended, he made the sign of the Cross over the iron
instrument, that was glowing at white heat from the fire, and then
waited fearlessly. The hissing iron was impressed on the tender
flesh, and the cautery drawn from the ear unto the eyebrow. How much
suffering the fire caused him, the holy man himself told: “Praise
the Most High,” saith he unto the Brethren, “for that of
a truth I say unto you, I felt neither the heat of the fire, nor any
pain in my flesh.” And, turning unto the surgeon, “If,”
saith he, “the cautery be not well made, impress it again.”
The surgeon, finding such mighty valour of spirit in his frail body,
marvelled, and exalted this divine miracle, saying: “I tell ye,
Brethren, I have seen strange things to-day.” For, by reason
that Francis had attained unto such purity that his flesh was in
harmony with his spirit, and his spirit with God, in marvellous
agreement, it was ordained by the divine ruling that the creature
that serveth its Maker should be wondrously subject unto his will and
command.

10. At another time, when the servant
of God was afflicted by a very grievous sickness, at the hermitage of
Saint Urban, and, feeling his strength failing, had asked for a
draught of wine, answer was made him that there was no wine there
that could be brought unto him; whereupon he bade that water should
be brought, and, when brought, he blessed it, making the sign of the
Cross over it. At once that which had been pure water became
excellent wine, and that which the poverty of the lonely place could
not provide was obtained by the purity of the holy man. Tasting
thereof, he forthwith so easily recovered his strength as that the
new flavour and the renewed health, by the sense of taste and by the
miracle renewing him that tasted, attested, with twofold witness, his
perfect laying aside of the old man and putting on of the new.

11. Nor did created things alone obey
the servant of God at his beck, but everywhere the very providence of
the Creator stooped unto his good pleasure. Thus, on a time when his
body was weighed down by the suffering of many infirmities together,
he had a yearning for some tuneful sound that might incite him unto
gladness of spirit, yet discreet decorum would not allow this to be
rendered by human agency,—then the Angels gave their services
to fulfil the good pleasure of the holy man. For one night while he
was wakeful, and meditating on the Lord, on a sudden was heard the
sound of a lyre of wondrous harmony and sweetest tune. No one was to
be seen, but the coming and going of a lyrist was betokened by the
volume of sound, now here, now there. With his mind uplifted unto
God, he enjoyed such sweetness from that melodious strain as that he
thought him to have exchanged this world for another. This was not
hidden from the Brethren that were his close companions, who
oft-times perceived, by assured tokens, that he was visited of the
Lord with such exceeding and continual consolations as that he could
not utterly hide them.

12. On another time, while the man of
God, with a Brother for companion, was making his way to preach
between Lombardy and the March of Treviso, and was nigh the Po, the
shadowy darkness of night surprised them. And since their way was
beset by many and great dangers by reason of the darkness, the river,
and the marshes, his companion said unto the holy man: “Pray,
Father, that we be delivered from instant peril.” Unto whom the
man of God made answer with great confidence: “God is able, if
it be His sweet will, to put to flight the thick darkness, and to
grant us the blessing of light.” Scarce had he ended his speech
ere, lo! such a great light began to shine around them with heavenly
radiance that, while for others it was dark night, they could see in
the clear light not their road only, but many things round about. By
the leading of this light they were guided in body and consoled in
spirit, until they arrived safely, singing divine hymns and lauds, at
their place of lodging that was some long way distant. Consider how
wondrous was the purity of this man, how great his merits, that at
his beck the fire should temper its heat, water should change its
flavour, angelic music should afford him solace, and light from
heaven leading; thus it was evident that the whole frame of the world
was obedient unto the consecrated senses of the holy man.

Chapter VI

OF HIS HUMILITY AND OBEDIENCE AND OF THE
DIVINE CONDESCENSIONS SHEWN UNTO HIM AT WILL

1. Humility, the guardian and glory
of all virtues, abounded in rich fulness in the man of God. In his
own estimation, he was naught but a sinner, whereas in very truth he
was the mirror and brightness of all saintliness. In humility he
strove to build himself up, as a wise masterbuilder laying the
foundation that he had learnt of Christ. He would say that for this
end the Son of God had come down from the heights, and from His
Father’s bosom, unto our mean estate, to wit, that both by
ensample and precept our Lord and Master might teach humility.
Wherefore Francis, as a disciple of Christ, strove ever to make
himself of no esteem in his own and other men’s eyes, mindful
of that saying of the greatest Teacher: “That which is highly
esteemed among men is abomination in the sight of God.” This
too he was wont to say, “A man’s worth is what he is in
the sight of God, and no more.” Accordingly, he deemed it a
fool’s part to be uplifted by the applause of the world, but he
rejoiced in railings, and was saddened by praise. He would liefer
hear himself reviled than praised, knowing that reviling leadeth unto
amendment, while praise impelleth toward a fall. Wherefore ofttimes
when folk exalted the merits of his saintliness, he would bid one of
the Brethren offer him a contrast, by pouring contemptuous words into
his ears. And when that Brother, albeit against his will, called him
a lout and an hireling, one unskilled and unprofitable, he would
rejoice in spirit and in countenance alike, and would make answer:
“The Lord bless thee, dearest son, for thou hast spoken words
most true, and such as it becometh the son of Peter Bernardone to
hear.”

2. Now that he might make himself
contemned of others, he spared not his shamefastness, but in
preaching before the whole folk laid bare his failings. It befell
once that, while weighed down by sickness, he had some little relaxed
the strictness of his abstinence, with the intent of regaining his
health. But when that he had recovered his bodily strength, this true
despiser of self was inspired to rebuke his own flesh. “It is
not fitting,” saith he, “that the folk should believe me
to observe abstinence while that I, on the contrary, do refresh my
body in secret.” Accordingly, he arose, kindled with the spirit
of holy humility, and, calling the folk together in an open space of
the city of Assisi, he, together with many Brethren that he had
brought with him, made a solemn entrance into the Cathedral Church,
and then, with a rope tied round his neck, and naked save for his
breeches, bade them drag him in the sight of all unto the stone
whereupon criminals were wont to be set for punishment. Mounting it,
albeit he was suffering from quartan fever and weakness, and the
season was bitterly cold, he preached with much power of spirit, and,
while all gave ear, declared that he ought not to be honoured as a
spiritual man, but that rather he ought to be despised of all as a
fleshly glutton. Then they that were present and beheld this amazing
sight, marvelled, and, for that they had long known his austerities,
were devoutly pricked to the heart, exclaiming that humility after
this sort were easier admired than imitated. Yet, albeit this seemed
rather like unto the prodigy foretold of the prophet than an
ensample, it set forth a pattern of perfect humility, whereby the
follower of Christ was taught that he ought to despise the vaunting
of a transient praise, and restrain the pomp of swelling pride, and
refute the lies of a deceitful semblance.

3. Many things after this sort he
ofttimes did, that outwardly he might become as it were a vessel that
perisheth, while inwardly he possessed the spirit of sanctification.
He sought to hide in the secret places of his heart the favours of
his Lord, loth to reveal them and so gain praise, that might be an
occasion of falling. Ofttimes, when he was glorified of many, he
would speak after this wise: “I may yet have sons and
daughters, praise me not as one that is safe. No man should be
praised before that his end be known.” This unto them that
praised him, unto himself this: “Had the Most High shewn such
favours unto a robber, he would have been better pleasing than thou,
Francis.” Ofttimes he would say unto the Brethren: “Concerning
all that a sinner can do, none aught to flatter himself with
undeserved praise. A sinner, (he saith), can fast, pray, lament, and
mortify his own body,—this one thing he cannot do, to wit, be
faithful unto his Lord. In this, then, we may glory, if we render
unto the Lord the glory that is His due, and if, while serving him
faithfully, we ascribe unto Him whatsoever He giveth.”

4. Now this Gospel merchant,—that
he might in many ways make profit, and make the whole time that now
is be turned into merit,—was fain not so much to be set in
authority as to be set under authority, not so much to command as to
obey. Wherefore, giving up his office unto the Minister General, he
sought a Warden, unto whose will he might submit him in all things.
For he maintained that the fruit of holy obedience was so rich as
that they who placed their necks under her yoke spent no portion of
their time without profit; wherefore he was ever wont to promise and
to render obedience unto the Brother that was his companion. He said
once unto his companions: “Among other gifts that the divine
goodness hath deigned to bestow upon me, it hath conferred this
grace, that I would as heedfully obey the novice of an hour, were he
appointed unto me for Warden, as I would the oldest and wisest
Brother. The subordinate, (saith he), ought to regard him that is set
in authority over him not as a man, but as Him for love of Whom he
doth make himself subject. And the more despicable is he that
commandeth, the more acceptable is the humility of him that obeyeth.”

When once it was enquired of him what
man should be esteemed truly obedient, he set before them as an
ensample the similitude of a dead body. “Lift up,” saith
he, “a dead body, and place it where thou wilt. Thou shalt see
it will not murmur at being moved, it will not complain of where it
is set, it will not cry out if left there. If it be set in a lofty
seat, it will look not up, but down. If it be clad in purple, it but
redoubleth its pallor. This, (saith he), is the truly obedient man,
who reasoneth not why he is moved, who careth not where he be placed,
who urgeth not that he should be transferred; who, when set in
authority, preserveth his wonted humility, and the more he is
honoured, considereth himself the more unworthy.”

5. He said once unto his companion:
“I esteem not myself to be a Brother Minor unless I be in the
state that I shall describe unto thee. Lo now, I suppose me to be one
set in authority over the Brethren; I go unto the Chapter, I preach
unto the Brethren and exhort them, and at the end they speak against
me, saying: “Thou mislikest us, for that thou art unlettered,
slow of speech, a fool, and simple,” and thus I am cast forth
with reviling, little esteemed of all. I tell thee,—unless I
can hear such words with unchanged countenance, with unchanged
gladness of spirit and unchanged holy intent,—I am vainly
called a Brother Minor.” And he added, “In exalted place
there is the fear of fall, in praises a precipice, in the humility of
a submissive spirit there is profit. Why then do we look for perils
rather than profits, when we have had time bestowed on us that we may
make profit therein?”

From this same reason of humility,
Francis was minded that his Brethren should be called by the name of
Minors, and that the rulers of his Order should be called Ministers,
that thus he might employ the very words of the Gospel that he had
vowed to observe, and that his followers might learn from their very
name that they had come to learn humility in the school of the humble
Christ. For that Teacher of humility, Christ Jesus, when He would
teach His disciples what was perfect humility, said: “Whosoever
will be great among you, let him be your minister; and whosoever will
be chief among you, let him be your servant.”

When therefore the lord Bishop of
Ostia, the protector and chief helper of the Order of Brothers Minor,
(he that afterward, as the holy man had foretold, was raised unto the
dignity of the Supreme Pontificate, under the name of Gregory the
Ninth), enquired of him whether it would be his will for his Brethren
to be promoted unto high places in the Church, he made answer: “Lord,
my Brethren be called Minors with this very intent, that they may not
arrogate unto themselves to be called greater. If thou art fain,
(saith he), that they should bear fruit in the Church of God,
maintain and keep them in the state of their calling, and in no wise
suffer them to rise unto rulership in the Church.’’

6. Now since in himself as well as in
them that obey he set humility before all honours, God, Who loveth
the humble, deemed him worthy of loftier heights, as a vision sent
from heaven made evident unto a Brother that was of an especial
holiness and devoutness. For he had been in the company of the man of
God, and, together with him, had been praying with fervour of spirit
in a certain deserted church, when, falling into an ecstasy, he
beheld among many seats in heaven one that was more honourable than
the rest, adorned with precious stones, and shining with utmost
splendour. Marvelling within himself at the splendour of this exalted
throne, he began to consider with anxious thought who should be
deemed worthy to sit thereon. Then, as he considered, he heard a
voice saying unto him: “This seat pertained unto one of the
fallen Angels, and is now kept for the humble Francis.” At
length, when the Brother had come back unto himself from that trance
of prayer, he followed the holy man as he went forth, as was his
wont. And as they walked by the way, conversing of God each in turn,
that Brother, not unmindful of his vision, enquired of him discreetly
what he thought of himself. And the humble servant of Christ I
answered him: “I think myself the chief of sinners.” When
the Brother said in opposition that he could not, with a sound
conscience, say or feel this, Francis added: “If any man,
howsoever guilty, had received such mercy from Christ as I, I verily
think he would have been far more acceptable unto God than I.”
Then, by the hearing of such marvellous humility, the Brother was
assured of the truth of the vision that had been shewn him, knowing
by the witness of the Holy Gospel that the truly humble shall be
exalted unto that excellent glory wherefrom the proud is cast down.

On another time, when that he
was praying in a deserted church in the province of Massa, nigh
Monte Casale, he learnt through the Spirit that certain holy relics
had been deposited there. Perceiving with sorrow that for a long
time past they had been deprived of the reverence due unto them, he
bade the Brethren bring them unto the place, with all honour. But
when, need arising, he had departed from them, his sons were
forgetful of their Father’s behest, and neglected the merit of
obedience. Then on a day, when they were fain to celebrate the holy
mysteries, and the upper covering of the altar was removed, they
found, not without amazement, some bones right fair and fragrant,
beholding the relics that the power of God, not men’s hands,
had brought thither. Returning shortly after, the man devoted unto
God began to make diligent enquiry whether his behest concerning the
relics had been carried out. The Brethren humbly confessed their sin
of neglected obedience, and gained pardon, with an award of penance.
And the holy man said: “Blessed be the Lord my God, Who
Himself hath fulfilled that which ye ought to have done.”
Consider heedfully the care of the divine providence for our dust,
and weigh the goodness of the humble Francis, that did excel in the
sight of God. For when man obeyed not his bidding, God fulfilled his
desires.

8. Coming on a time unto Imola, he
approached the Bishop of the city, and humbly besought him that, with
his sanction, he might call the people together to preach unto them.
The Bishop answered him harshly, saying: “It sufficeth,
Brother, that I myself preach unto my people.” Francis, in his
true humility, bowed his head, and went forth; howbeit, after a short
space, he returned into the house. When the Bishop, as one in wrath,
asked of him what he meant by coming again, he replied, with humility
alike of heart and voice, “Lord, if a father drive his son
forth by one door, he must enter again by another.” Vanquished
by his humility, the Bishop embraced him with eager mien, saying:
“Thou and all thy Brethren shall from henceforward have a
general license to preach throughout my diocese, for this thy holy
humility hath earned.”

9. It befell once that he came unto
Arezzo at a time when the whole city was shaken by a civil war that
threatened its speedy ruin. As he was lodging in the outskirts of the
city, he beheld the demons exulting above it, and inflaming the angry
citizens unto mutual slaughter. Then, that he might put to flight
those powers of the air that were stirring up the strife, he sent
forward as his herald Brother Silvester, a man of dovelike
simplicity, saying: “Go out before the city gate, and, on
behalf of God Almighty, command the demons in the power of obedience
to depart with all speed.” The Brother, in his true obedience,
hastened to perform his Father’s behests, and, coming before
the presence of the Lord with thanksgiving, began to cry with a loud
voice before the city gate: “On behalf of God Almighty, and at
the bidding of His servant Francis, depart far from hence, all ye
demons!” At once the city was restored unto a state of peace,
and all the citizens peacefully and quietly began to fashion anew
their civil laws. Thus when the raging arrogance of the demons had
been driven out, that had held the city as it were in a state of
siege, the wisdom of the poor, to wit, the humility of Francis, came
unto its aid, and restored peace, and saved the city. For by the
merit of the difficult virtue of humble obedience, he obtained so
powerful an authority over those rebellious and insolent spirits as
that he could restrain their fierce arrogance, and put to flight
their lawless molestation.

10. The proud demons flee before the
lofty virtues of the humble, save when at times the divine mercy
permitteth them to buffet them that humility may be preserved, even
as the Apostle Paul writeth concerning himself, and as Francis learnt
by experience. For when the lord Cardinal of Sta. Croce, Leo, did
invite him to tarry for a while with him in Rome, he humbly agreed
thereunto, for the reverence and love that he bore him. When on the
first night, his prayers ended, he was fain to sleep, the demons rose
up against the soldier of Christ, cruelly attacking him, and, when
they had beaten him long and sorely, at the last left him as it were
half dead. On their departure, the man of God called his companion,
and when he came, related unto him the whole affair, adding: “I
believe, Brother, that the demons, who can avail naught save in so
far as the divine providence permitteth them, have now assailed me
thus furiously because that my lodging in the palaces of the great
affordeth no good ensample. My Brethren that sojourn in poor little
abodes, when they hear that I lodge with Cardinals, will perchance
surmise that I am being entangled in worldly affairs, that I am
carried away by honours paid me, and that I am abounding in luxuries.
Wherefore I deem it better that he who is set for an ensample should
shun palaces, and should walk humbly among the humble in humble
abodes, that he may make those that bear poverty strong, by himself
bearing the like.” At morn, then, they came and, humbly
excusing themselves, took farewell of the Cardinal.

11. The holy man did in truth loathe
pride—the root of all evils,—and disobedience, its most
evil offspring, yet none the less he would alway receive the humility
of the penitent. It befell once that a certain Brother was brought
unto him who had transgressed against the rule of obedience, and
deserved correction by a just discipline. But the man of God,
perceiving by manifest tokens that that Brother was truly contrite,
was moved by his love of humility to spare him. Howbeit, that the
easiness of gaining pardon should not be a pretext unto others for
wrongdoing, he bade that his hood should be taken from that Brother,
and cast into the midst of the flames, that all might take note by
what grave punishment sins of disobedience were to be chastised. When
the hood had lain for some time in the midst of the fire, he bade
that it should be withdrawn from the flames, and restored unto the
Brother that was humbly penitent. Marvellous to relate, the hood,
when withdrawn from the midst of the flames, shewed no trace of
burning. Thus it came to pass that, through this one miracle, God
commended both the virtue of the holy man, and the humility of
penitence.

Thus the humility of Francis is meet
to be imitated, that even on earth gained such wondrous honour as
that God condescended unto his desires, and changed the feelings of
men, drove forth the arrogance of demons at his bidding, and by a
mere gesture bridled the ravenous flames. Verily, this humility it is
that exalteth them that possess it, and that, while paying respect
unto all, from all gaineth honour.

Chapter VII

OF HIS LOVE FOR POVERTY, AND OF THE
WONDROUS SUPPLYING OF HIS NEEDS

1. Among other gifts of graces that
Francis had received from the bounteous Giver, he merited to abound,
as by an especial prerogative all his own, in the riches of
simplicity, through his love of sublimest Poverty. The holy man
regarded Poverty as the familiar friend of the Son of God, and as one
now rejected by the whole world, and was zealous to espouse her with
such a constant affection as that not only did he leave father and
mother for her sake, but he did even part with all that might have
been his. For none was ever so greedy of gold as he of poverty, nor
did any man ever guard treasure more anxiously than he this Gospel
pearl. One thing more than aught else was displeasing in his eyes, to
wit, if he beheld aught in the Brethren that was not wholly in accord
with poverty. He himself, verily, from his entrance into the Religion
until his death was content with, and counted himself rich with, a
tunic, a cord, and breeches. Ofttimes with tears he would recall unto
mind the poverty of Christ Jesus, and of His Mother, declaring
Poverty to be the queen of virtues inasmuch as she shone forth thus
excellently in the King of Kings and in the Queen His Mother. And
when the Brethren in council asked of him which virtue would render a
man most pleasing unto Christ, he answered, as though laying bare the
secret thought of his heart, “Ye know. Brethren, that poverty
is an especial way of salvation, being as it were the food of
humility, and the root o£ perfection, and her fruits are
manifold, albeit hidden. For poverty is that treasure hid in a field
of the Gospel, which to buy a man would sell all that he hath, and
the things that cannot be sold are to be despised in comparison
therewith.”

2. He also said, ‘‘He
that would attain this height must needs in all ways renounce not
alone the wisdom of the world, but even knowledge of letters, so
that, dispossessed of such an inheritance, he may go in the strength
of the Lord, and give himself up naked into the arms of the
Crucified. For in vain doth he utterly renounce the world who keepeth
in the secret places of his heart a shrine for his own senses.
Ofttimes indeed would he discourse of poverty, impressing on the
Brethren that saying of the Gospel, ‘‘The foxes have
holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man hath
not where to lay His Head.” Wherefore he would teach the
Brethren that, after the fashion of the poor, they should build poor
little houses, wherein they should dwell, not as their owners, but as
pilgrims and strangers dwell in other men’s houses. For he said
that the rules of pilgrims were to abide under a strange roof, to
thirst for their fatherland, and to pass on their way in peace. More
than once, he bade houses that had been built be pulled down, or the
Brethren removed thence, if he saw in them aught that by reason of
ownership or of magnificence was opposed unto Gospel poverty. Poverty
he declared to be the foundation of his Order, and, with this first
laid as a basis, he said the whole edifice of the Religion would so
rest upon it as that, while it stood firm, the Religion stood firm;
were it overthrown, that other likewise would be overthrown from the
foundations.

3. Furthermore, he taught, as he had
learnt by revelation, that the entrance into holy Religion must be
made through that saying of the Gospel: “If thou wilt be
perfect, go and sell that thou hast, and give to the poor’’;
and accordingly he would admit none into the Order that had not
dispossessed themselves, keeping absolutely naught back, both because
of the saying of the Holy Gospel, and that there might be no
treasure-chests laid up to cause scandal. Thus, when a certain man,
in the March of Ancona, sought to be received into the Order, the
true patriarch of the poor made answer: “If thou art fain to be
joined unto the poor of Christ, part thy goods among the poor of this
world.” Hearing this, the man arose, and, led by carnal
affection, bequeathed his goods unto his own kin, and naught unto the
poor. But when the holy man heard of this from his own mouth, he chid
him with stem reproofs, saying: “Go thy way, brother fly, for
thou hast not yet gotten thee out from thy kindred and from thy
father’s house. Thou hast given thy goods unto thy kin, and
hast cheated the poor, thou art not meet for the holy poor. Thou hast
begun in the flesh, and hast laid but a shaking foundation for a
spiritual edifice.” Then that carnal man returned unto his kin,
and sought again his goods, the which he was not minded to bequeath
unto the poor; thus quickly he abandoned his virtuous intent.

4. At another time, there was in the
place of Saint Mary of the Little Portion such scarcity as that they
could not provide for the guest Brethren as their needs demanded.
Accordingly, his Vicar went unto the man of God, pleading the
destitution of the Brethren, and begging that he would permit some
portion of the novices’ goods to be retained on their entrance,
so that the Brethren might resort thereunto for their expenditure in
times of need. Unto whom Francis, instructed in the heavenly
counsels, made reply: “Far be it from us, dearest Brother, to
act wickedly against the Rule for the sake of any man whomsoever. I
had liefer that thou shouldst strip the altar of the glorious Virgin,
when our need demandeth it, than that thou shouldst attempt aught, be
it but a little thing, against our vow of poverty and the observance
of the Gospel. For the Blessed Virgin would be better pleased that
her altar should be despoiled, and the counsel of the Holy Gospel
perfectly fulfilled, than that her altar should be adorned, and the
counsel given by her Son set aside.”

5. When on a time the man of God was
passing, with a companion, through Apulia, and was nigh unto Bari, he
found in the road a great purse, swelling as though full of coins,
such as in the common speech is called funda. The poor man of Christ
was exhorted, and earnestly besought, by his companion, to lift the
purse from the ground, and distribute the money among the poor. But
the man of God refused, declaring that there was some devilish
contrivance in the purse that they had found, and that what the
Brother was proposing was no good deed but a sin, to wit, taking
goods not their own and giving them away. They left the spot, and
hastened to complete the journey on which they had entered. Howbeit,
that Brother would not hold his peace, deceived by an empty piety,
but still vexed the man of God, as though he were one who cared
naught for relieving the destitution of the poor. At length the
gentle Francis consented to return unto the spot, not to fulfil the
desire of the Brother, but to unmask the wiles of the devil.
Accordingly, returning where the purse lay, with the Brother and with
a youth who was on the road, he first prayed, and then bade his
companion take it up. The Brother trembled and was adread, now
presaging some devilish portent; nevertheless, by reason of the
command of holy obedience, he conquered the doubts of his heart, and
stretched forth his hand unto the purse. Lo! a serpent of no mean
size leapt forth from the purse, and at once vanished together with
it, shewing that it had been a snare of the devil. The wiles of the
enemy’s cunning being thus apparent, the holy man said unto his
companion: “Money, O my brother, is unto the servants of God
naught else than the devil and a poisonous serpent.”

6. After this, a wondrous thing
befell the holy man while that, at the call of a pressing need, he
was betaking him unto the city of Siena. Three poor women, alike in
all respects as to height, age, and countenance, met him on the wide
plain between Campiglio and San Quirico, proffering a new greeting by
way of gift: “Welcome,” said they, “Lady Poverty!”
At these words, that true lover of poverty was filled with joy
unspeakable, inasmuch as there was naught in him that he would so
lief have saluted by men as that whereof they had made mention. On a
sudden the women vanished, whereupon the Brethren that were his
companions pondered on their wondrous resemblance each unto the
other, and on the newness of their greeting, their appearing, and
their vanishing, and deemed, not without reason, that some mystery
was thereby signified concerning the holy man. Verily, by those three
poor women,—for such they seemed,—with such resemblance
in countenance, that met him, that gave him such unwonted greeting,
and that so suddenly vanished, it was fittingly shewn that the beauty
of Gospel perfection,—touching chastity, to wit, and obedience,
and poverty,—shone forth perfectly in kindred form in the man
of God; howbeit, he had chosen to make his chief boast in the
privilege of Poverty, whom he was wont to name now his mother, now
his bride, now his lady. In this, he was greedy to surpass others, he
who thereby had learnt to think himself of less account than all
others. Accordingly, if ever he saw any man who, judging by his
outward appearance, was poorer than himself, he would forthwith blame
himself, and stir himself up unto the like, as though, striving
jealously after poverty, he feared to be outdone by that other.

It chanced once that he met a poor
man on the road, and, beholding his nakedness, was stricken to the
heart, and said with a sighing voice unto his companion: “This
man’s destitution hath brought on us great reproach, for we
have chosen Poverty as our great riches, and lo! she shineth forth
more clearly in him.”

7. By reason of his love for holy
Poverty, the servant of Almighty God had far liefer partake of alms
begged from door to door than of food set before him. Thus, if ever
he was invited by great folk, who would fain honour him by a
well-spread board, he would first beg crusts of bread from the
neighbouring houses, and then, thus enriched in his poverty, sit down
at the board. Once he did thus when he had been invited by the lord
Bishop of Ostia, who loved the poor man of Christ with an especial
affection, and when the Bishop complained that it brought shame upon
him that a guest at his table should go forth for alms, the servant
of God made answer: “My lord, I have done you a great honour,
while honouring a greater Lord. For poverty is well-pleasing unto the
Lord, and that before all which is a free-will beggary for the sake
of Christ. This royal dignity,—that the Lord Jesus took upon
Him when for our sakes He became poor, that we through His poverty
might be rich, and that He might make them that be truly poor in
spirit kings and heirs of the Kingdom of Heaven,—I am not
minded to abandon for a fee of deceptive riches lent unto you for an
hour.”

8. Ofttimes when he was exhorting the
Brethren to go forth for alms, he would speak on this wise: “Go
forth,” saith he, “since at this eleventh hour the
Brothers Minor have been lent unto the world, that the number of the
elect may be in them fulfilled; wherefore they shall be praised by
the Judge, and shall hear those most delectable words: “Inasmuch
as ye have done it unto one of the least o£ these My brethren,
ye have done it unto Me.” Accordingly, he would say it was a
delightsome thing to beg under the name of Brothers Minor, since the
Master of Gospel truth had with His own mouth thus spoken of that
name,—” the least,”—in the rewarding of the
just. Moreover, on the chief Feasts, when opportunity offered, he was
wont to go begging, saying that in the holy poor was fulfilled that
prophecy: “Man did eat Angels’ food.” For he said
that bread was truly Angels’ food that was begged for the love
of God, and with the aid of the blessed Angels, and that holy Poverty
gathered from door to door, where it was bestowed for love of her.

9. Accordingly, when he was once
sojourning on the holy Easter Day in an hermitage so distant from the
dwellings of men as that he could not conveniently go forth to beg,
mindful of Him Who on that day had appeared unto the disciples going
unto Emmaus in the guise of a pilgrim, he, as a pilgrim and beggar,
did ask alms from the Brethren themselves. And, having humbly
received them, he taught them in holy discourse that while passing
through the wilderness of the world as pilgrims and strangers, and
Israelites indeed, they might celebrate continually, as those poor in
spirit, the Lord’s Passover, to wit, His departure from this
world unto the Father. And since in asking alms he was moved, not by
desire for gain, but by a free spirit, God, the Father of the poor,
seemed to have an especial care of him.

10. It chanced once that the servant
of the Lord had been weighed down by sickness in the place called
Nocera, and was being brought back unto Assisi by an honourable
escort, sent for this purpose by the devotion of the people of
Assisi. And they, escorting the servant of Christ, reached a poor
little hamlet, Satriano by name, whither, since their hunger and the
hour demanded it, they went to seek food, but, finding naught that
they could buy, returned empty handed. Then the holy man said unto
them: “Naught have ye found, for that ye put more trust in your
flies than in God,”—for he was wont to call money flies.
‘‘But go back, (saith he), among the houses that ye have
visited, and, offering the love of God as your payment, humbly ask an
alms. And do not by a false reckoning esteem this a thing shameful or
base, since the great Almsgiver hath in His abounding goodness
granted all things as alms unto the worthy and unworthy alike, after
we have sinned.” Then those knights laid aside their
shamefastness, and of their own accord asked for alms, and bought
more for the love of God than they had been able to for money. For
the poor inhabitants of the place, stricken to the heart by a divine
impulse, freely proffered not only their goods, but their very
selves. Thus it befell that the necessity, which money had not
availed to relieve, was supplied by the rich poverty of Francis.

11. On a time when he was lying sick
in an hermitage nigh Rieti, a certain physician did oft visit him
with welcome ministries. And since the poor man of Christ was unable
to give him a recompense meet for his toil, the most bountiful God,
on behalf of His poor, rewarded his kindly service by this singular
benefit, that he might not depart with no immediate fee. The house of
the physician, which he had at that time built anew with the whole of
his savings, by a gaping cleavage of the walls from top to bottom
threatened so speedy a collapse as that it seemed impossible that any
mortal skill or toil should avert its fall. Then the physician,
entirely trusting in the merits of the holy man, with great faith and
devotion besought from his companions the gift of some thing that
that same man of God had touched with his hands. Accordingly, having
with much importunity of pleading gained a few of his hairs, he laid
them at even in the cleavage of the wall; then, rising next mom, he
found the opening so firmly sealed as that he could not withdraw the
relics he had placed therein, nor find any trace of the former
cleavage. Thus it came to pass that he who had diligently tended the
frail body of God’s servant was able to avert the danger from
his own frail house.

12. On another time, when the man of
God was fain to betake him unto a certain solitude, where he might
more freely give himself up unto contemplation, he rode, being weak
in body, upon the ass of a poor man. While this man was following the
servant of Christ in the summer heat, and up mountain ways, he became
worn out by the journey, as the path grew ever rougher and longer,
and, fainting with exceeding and burning thirst, he began to cry
aloud with importunity after the Saint: “Lo! (saith he), I
shall die of thirst, if I be not at once refreshed by the help of
some draught!” Without delay, the man of God got off the ass,
fell on his knees, and, raising his hands unto heaven, ceased not to
pray until he knew that he had been heard. His prayer at length
ended, he said unto the man: “Hasten unto yonder rock, and
there thou shalt find a spring of water, that Christ in His mercy
hath at this hour caused to flow from the rock for thee to drink.”
O marvellous condescension of God, that doth so readily incline unto
His servants! The thirsty man drank the water produced from the rock
by the power of him that prayed, and drained a draught from the
flinty rock. Before that time there had been no flowing water there,
nor from that time,—as hath been carefully ascertained,—hath
any been found there.

13. Now in what manner, by the merits
of His poor one, Christ multiplied provisions at sea, shall be
related in its own place hereafter; suffice it to note this only,
that by the scanty alms brought unto him he saved the sailors from
the peril of famine and of death during many days; thus it may be
clearly seen that the servant of God Almighty, as he was made like
unto Moses in the drawing of water from the rock, was made like also
unto Elias in the multiplying of food. Wherefore let all anxious
thought be far removed from the poor ones of Christ. For if the
poverty of Francis was of such an abundant sufficiency as that it
supplied by its wondrous power the needs of them that assisted
him,—so that neither food, nor drink, nor house failed them,
when the resources of money, of skill, and of nature had proved of
none avail,—much more shall it merit those things that in the
wonted course of the divine providence are granted unto all alike.
If, I say, the stony rock, at the prayer of one poor man, poured
forth a copious draught for another poor man in his thirst, naught in
the whole creation will refuse its service unto those who have left
all for the sake of the Creator of all.

Chapter VIII

OF THE KINDLY IMPULSES OF HIS PIETY AND OF
HOW THE CREATURES LACKING UNDERSTANDING SEEMED TO BE MADE SUBJECT
UNTO HIM

1. That true godliness which,
according unto the Apostle, is profitable unto all things, had so
filled the heart of Francis and entered into his inmost parts as that
it seemed to have established its sway absolutely over the man of
God. It was this piety that, through devotion, uplifted him toward
God; through compassion, transformed him into the likeness of Christ;
through condescension, inclined him unto his neighbour, and, through
his all-embracing love for every creature, set forth a new picture of
man’s estate before the Fall. And as by this piety he was
touched with kindly feeling for all things, so above all, when he
beheld souls redeemed by the precious Blood of Christ Jesus being
defiled by any stain of sin, he would weep over them with such
tenderness of compassion as that he seemed, like a mother in Christ,
to be in travail of them daily. And this was with him the chief cause
of his veneration for the ministers of the word of God, to wit, that
with devout care they raise up seed unto the Brother which is dead,
that is, unto Christ crucified for sinners, by converting such, and
cherish the same seed with careful devotion. This ministry of
compassion he maintained was more acceptable unto the Father of
mercies than all sacrifice, in especial if it were performed with the
zeal of perfect charity, so that this end might be striven after by
ensample rather than by precept, by tearful prayer rather than by
eloquent speech.

2. Accordingly, he would say that
that preacher should be deplored as one without true piety, who in
his preaching did not seek the salvation of souls, but his own glory,
or who by the sins of his life pulled down that which he built up by
the truth of his teaching. He would say that the Brother simple and
unready of speech, who by his good ensample inciteth others unto
good, should be preferred before such an one. That saying, moreover:
“The barren hath borne many,” he would thus expound: “The
barren, (saith he), is the little poor Brother, who hath not the
function of begetting sons in the Church. He in the Judgement shall
bear many, for that those whom he now converteth unto Christ by his
secret prayers shall be then added unto his glory by the Judge. And
‘she that hath many children is waxed feeble,’ for that
the empty preacher of many words who now boasteth in many begotten,
as it were, by his power, shall then perceive that there is naught of
his own in them.”

3. Since then with heartfelt piety
and glowing zeal he sought after the salvation of souls, he would say
that he was filled with the sweetest fragrance, and anointed as with
precious ointment whensoever he heard of many being led into the way
of truth by the sweet savour of the repute of the holy Brethren
scattered throughout the world. Hearing such reports, he would
rejoice in spirit, heaping with blessings most worthy of all
acceptance those Brethren who, by word or deed, were bringing sinners
onto the love of Christ. In like wise, those who were transgressing
against holy Religion .by their evil works, fell under the heaviest
sentence of his curse. “By Thee,” saith he, “O Lord
most holy, by the entire company of heaven, and by me, Thy little
one, be they accursed who by their evil ensample do bring unto naught
and destroy that which through the holy Brethren of this Order Thou
hast built up, and dost not cease to build.” Qfttimes he was
affected by such sadness, by reason of the stumbling-block unto the
weak brethren, that he thought his strength would have failed him,
had he not been sustained by the comfort of the Divine mercy.

But when once on a time he was
disquieted because of evil ensamples, and with troubled spirit was
beseeching the merciful Father for his sons, he obtained an answer on
this wise from the Lord: “Why dost thou fret thee, poor little
mortal? Have I set thee as shepherd over My Religion that thou
shouldst forget I am its chief Protector? I have appointed thee,
simple as thou art, for this very end, that the things that I shall
perform through thee may be ascribed, not unto man’s working,
but unto grace from above. I have called this Religion, I will keep
it and feed it, and, when some fall off, I will raise up others in
their place, yea, so that, were none born, I would even cause them to
be born. And by whatsoever shocks this little poor Religion may be
shaken, it shall alway abide unscathed under My guard.”

4. The vice of slander, hateful unto
the fount of goodness and grace, Francis would shrink from as from a
serpent’s tooth, declaring it to be a most hateful plague, and
an abomination unto the most holy God, forasmuch as the slanderer
feedeth on the blood of those souls that he hath slain by the sword
of his tongue. Hearing once a certain Brother blacken the repute of
another, he turned unto his Vicar, and said: “Rise, rise, make
careful inquiry, and, if thou findest the accused Brother to be
guiltless, with stern discipline make the accuser to be marked of
all.” At times, indeed, he would sentence him who had despoiled
his Brother of the praise of his good repute to be himself despoiled
of his habit, and deemed that he ought not to be able to lift up his
eyes unto God unless first he had exerted himself to restore as best
he might, that which he had taken away. “The sin of
slanderers,” he would say, “is more heinous than that of
robbers, inasmuch as the law of Christ,—that is fulfilled in
the observance of godliness,—bindeth us to desire more the
salvation of the soul than of the body.”

5. Unto them that were afflicted with
bodily snaring of any sort, he would condescend with a marvellous
tenderness of sympathy; if he perceived in any aught of destitution,
aught of lack, he would in the gentleness of his devout heart carry
it unto Christ. Mercy, verily, was inborn in him, and redoubled by
the shedding upon it of the piety of Christ. Thus his soul was melted
over the poor and the weak, and, when he could not open his hand unto
any, he opened his heart. It chanced on a time that one of the
Brethren had made somewhat harsh reply unto a poor man that
importunately asked an alms. When the devout lover of the poor heard
it, he bade that Brother throw himself, naked, at the poor man’s
feet, declare himself in fault, and beg the favour of his prayer and
his pardon. When he had humbly done this, the Father gently added:
“When thou seest a poor man, O Brother, a mirror is set before
thee of the Lord, and of His Mother in her poverty. In the infirm, do
thou in like manner think upon the infirmities that He took upon
Him.” In all the poor, he,—himself the most Christlike of
all poor men,—beheld the image of Christ, wherefore he judged
that all things that were provided for himself,—were they even
the necessaries of life,—should be given up unto any poor folk
whom he met, and that not only as largesse, but even as if they were
their own property.

It befell on a time that a certain
beggar met him, as he was returning from Siena, when by reason of
sickness he was wrapped in a cloak over his habit. Beholding with
pitiful eye the poor man’s misery; “It behoveth us,”
said he unto his companion, “to restore the cloak unto this
poor man, for his own it is. For we received it but as a loan, until
it should be our hap to find another poorer than ourselves.”
But his companion, having regard unto the need of the kindly Father,
did urgently seek to refrain him from providing for another, leaving
himself uncared-for. Howbeit, “I think,” saith he, “the
greet Almsgiver would account it a theft .in me did I not give that I
wear unto one needing it more.” Accordingly he was wont to ask
from those that had given him necessities for the succour of his body
permission to give them away, did he meet a needier person, so that
he might do so with their sanction. Naught would he withhold, neither
cloak, nor habit, nor books, nor the very ornaments of the altar, but
all these he would, while he could, bestow upon the needy, that he
might fulfil the ministry of charity. Ofttimes whenas he met on the
road poor folk carrying burdens, he would lay their burdens on his
own weak shoulders.

6. When he bethought him of the first
beginning of all things, he was filled with a yet more overflowing
charity, and would call the dumb animals, howsoever small, by the
names of brother and sister, forasmuch as he recognised in them the
same origin as in himself. Yet he loved with an especial warmth and
tenderness those creatures that do set forth by the likeness of their
nature the holy gentleness of Christ, and in the interpretation of
Scripture are a type of Him. Ofttimes he would buy back lambs that
were being taken to be killed, in remembrance of that most gentle
Lamb Who brooked to be brought unto the slaughter for the redemption
of sinners.

On a time when the servant of God was
lodging at the Monastery of San Verecondo in the diocese of Gubbio,
an ewe gave birth unto a lamb one night. There was hard by a very
fierce sow, and she, sparing not the innocent life, slew him with her
greedy jaws. When the gentle Father heard thereof, he was moved with
wondrous pity, and, remembering that Lamb without spot, mourned over
the dead lamb in the presence of all, saying: “Woe is me,
brother little lamb, innocent creature, setting forth Christ unto
men! Cursed be that evil beast that hath devoured thee, and of her
flesh let neither man nor beast eat.’’ Marvellous to
relate, the cruel sow forthwith began to languish, and in three days
paid the penalty in her own body, and suffered death as her
retribution. Her carcase was cast forth into a ditch near the
Monastery, and there lay for a long time, dried up like a board, and
food for no famished beast. Let human evil-doing, then, take note by
what a punishment it shall be overtaken at the last, if the
savageness of a brute beast was smitten by a death so awful: let
faithful devotion also consider how in the servant of God was shewn a
piety of such marvellous power and abundant sweetness, as that even
the nature of brute beasts, after their own fashion, acclaimed it.

7. While he was journeying nigh the
city of Siena, he came on a great flock of sheep in the pastures. And
when he had given them gracious greeting, as was his wont, they left
their feeding, and all ran toward him, raising their heads, and
gazing fixedly on him with their eyes. So eagerly did they acclaim
him as that both the shepherds and the Brethren marvelled, beholding
around him the lambs, and the rams no less, thus wondrously filled
with delight.

At another time, at Saint Mary of the
Little Portion, a lamb was brought unto the man of God, the which he
thankfully received, by reason of the love of guilelessness and
simplicity that the lamb’s nature doth exhibit. The holy man
exhorted the lamb that it should be instant in the divine praises,
and avoid any occasion of offence unto the Brethren; the lamb, on its
part, as though it had observed the piety of the man of God,
diligently obeyed his instructions. For when it heard the Brethren
chanting in the choir, it too would enter the church, and, unbidden
of any, would bend the knee, bleating before the altar of the Virgin
Mother of the Lamb, as though it were fain to greet her. Furthermore,
at the election of the most holy Body of Christ in the solemn Mass,
it would bend its knees and bow, even as though the sheep, in its
reverence, would reprove the irreverence of the undevout, and would
incite Christ’s devout people to revere the Sacrament.

At one time he had with him in Rome a
lamb, by reason of his reverence for that Lamb most gentle, and it he
entrusted unto a noble matron, to wit, the lady Jacoba di Settesoli,
to be cared for in her bower. This lamb, like one instructed in
spiritual things by the Saint, when the lady went into church, kept
closely by her side in going and in returning. If in the early
morning the lady delayed her rising, the lamb would rise and would
butt her with its little horns, and rouse her by its bleatings,
admonishing her with gestures and nods to hasten into church.
Wherefore the lamb, that had been a pupil of Francis, and was now
become a teacher of devotion, was cherished by the lady as a creature
marvellous and loveworthy.

8. At another time, at Greccio, a
live leveret was brought unto the man of God, the which,—when
set down free on the ground that it might escape whither it would,—at
the call of the kindly Father leapt with flying feet into his bosom.
He, fondling it in the instinctive tenderness of his heart, seemed to
feel for it as a mother, and, bidding it in gentle tones beware of
being recaptured, let it go free. But albeit it was set on the ground
many times to escape, it did alway return unto the Father’s
bosom, as though by some hidden sense it perceived the tenderness of
his heart; wherefore at length, by his command, the Brethren carried
it away unto a safer and more remote spot.

In like manner, on an island of the
lake of Perugia, a rabbit was caught and brought unto the man of God,
and, albeit it fled from others, it entrusted itself unto his hands
and bosom with the confidence of a tame creature.

As he was hastening by the lake of
Rieti unto the hermitage of Greccio, a fisherman out of devotion
brought unto him a water-fowl, the which he gladly received, and
then, opening his hands, bade it depart; howbeit, it would not leave
him. Then he, lifting his eyes unto heaven, remained for a long space
in prayer, and, after a long hour returning unto himself as though
from afar, gently bade the little bird depart, and praise the Lord.
Then, having thus received his blessing and leave, it flew away,
shewing joy by the movement of its body.

In like manner, from the same lake
there was brought unto him a fine, live fish, which he called, as was
his wont, by the name of brother, and put back into the water nigh
the boat. Then the fish played in the water nigh the man of God, and,
as though drawn by love of him, would in no wise leave the boatside
until it had received his blessing and leave.

9. On another time, when he was
walking with a certain Brother through the Venetian marshes, he
chanced on a great host of birds that were sitting and singing among
the bushes. Seeing them, he said unto his companion: “Our
sisters the birds are praising their Creator, let us too go among
them and sing unto the Lord praises and the canonical Hours.”
When they had gone into their midst, the birds stirred not from the
spot, and when, by reason of their twittering, they could not hear
each the other in reciting the Hours, the holy man turned unto the
birds, saying: “My sisters the birds, cease from singing, while
that we render our due praises unto the Lord.” Then the birds
forthwith held their peace, and remained silent until, having said
his Hours at leisure and rendered his praises, the holy man of God
again gave them leave to sing. And, as the man of God gave them
leave, they at once took up their song again after their wonted
fashion.

At Saint Mary of the Little Portion,
hard by the cell of the man of God, a cicada sat on a fig-tree and
chirped; and right often by her song she stirred up unto the divine
praises the servant of the Lord, who had learnt to marvel at the
glorious handiwork of the Creator even as seen in little things. One
day he called her, and she, as though divinely taught, lighted upon
his hand. When he said unto her: “Sing, my sister cicada, and
praise the Lord thy Creator with thy glad lay,” she obeyed
forthwith, and began to chirp, nor did she cease until, at the
Father’s bidding, she flew back unto her own place. There for
eight days she abode, on any day coming at his call, singing, and
flying back, according as he bade her. At length the man of God said
unto his companions: “Let us now give our sister cicada leave
to go, for she hath gladdened us enough with her lay, stirring us up
these eight days past unto the praises of God.” And at once,
his leave given, she flew away, nor was ever seen there again, as
though she dared not in any wise transgress his command.

10. Once while he was lying ill at
Siena a fresh-caught pheasant was sent unto him, alive, by a certain
nobleman. The bird, so soon as it saw and heard the holy man, pressed
nigh him with such friendliness as that it would in no wise brook to
be parted from him. For, albeit it was several times set down in a
vineyard outside the abode of the Brethren, so that it might escape
if it would, it still ran back in haste unto the Father as though it
had alway been brought up by his hand. Then, when it was given unto a
certain man who was wont out of devotion to visit the servant of God,
it seemed as though it grieved to be out of the sight of the gentle
Father, and refused all food. At length, it was brought back unto the
servant of God, and, so soon as it saw him, testified its delight by
its gestures, and ate eagerly.

When he had come unto the solitudes
of Alverna, to keep a Lent in honour of the Archangel Michael, birds
of divers sort fluttered about his cell and seemed by their tuneful
chorus and joyous movements to rejoice at his comings and to invite
and entice the holy Father to tarry there. Seeing this, he said unto
his companion: “I perceive, Brother, that it is in accord with
the divine will that we should abide here for a space, so greatly do
our sisters the little birds seem to take comfort in our presence.”
While, accordingly, he was sojourning in that place, a falcon that
had its nest there bound itself by close ties of friendship unto him.
For alway at that hour of night wherein the holy man was wont to rise
for the divine office, the falcon was beforehand with its song and
cries. And this was most acceptable unto the servant of God, the more
so as that the great concern which the bird shewed for him shook from
him all drowsiness of sloth. But when the servant of Christ was
weighed down beyond his wont by infirmity, the falcon would spare
him, and would not mark for him so early an awakening. At such times,
as though taught of God, he would about dawn strike the bell of his
voice with a light touch. Verily, there would seem to have been a
divine omen, alike in the gladness of the birds of myriad species,
and in the cries of the falcon, inasmuch as that praiser and
worshipper of God, upborne on the wings of contemplation, was at that
very place and time to be exalted by the vision of the Seraph.

11. At one time while he was
sojourning in the hermitage of Greccio, the natives of that place
were plagued by manifold evils. For an herd of ravening wolves was
devouring not beasts alone, but men also, and every year a hailstorm
laid waste their corn and vineyards. Accordingly, when the herald of
the Holy Gospel was preaching unto them under these afflictions, he
said: “I promise you,—pledging the honour and glory of
Almighty God,—that all this plague shall depart from you, and
that the Lord will look upon you, and multiply your temporal goods if
only, believing me, ye will take pity on your own selves, and will
first make true confession, then bring forth fruits worthy of
repentance. But again, I declare unto you that if, unthankful for His
benefits, ye shall turn again unto your vomit, the plague will be
renewed, the punishment will be redoubled, and greater wrath will be
shewn upon you.” Then from that very hour, they turned at his
admonition unto repentance, and the disasters ceased, the perils
passed over, nor was aught of havoc wrought by wolves or hailstorms.
Nay more, what is yet more marvellous, if a hailstorm ever fell upon
their neighbours’ lands, as it neared their borders it was
there stayed, or changed its course unto some other region. The hail
observed, yea, and the wolves observed, the pact made with the
servant of God, nor did they essay any more to break the law of
natural piety by raging against men that had turned unto piety, so
long as men in their turn, according unto the agreement, did not act
wickedly against the most holy laws of God.

With holy affection, then, must we
think on the holiness of this blessed man, that was of such wondrous
sweetness and might as that it conquered wild beasts, tamed woodland
creatures, and taught tame ones, and inclined the nature of the
brutes, that had revolted from fallen man, to obey him. For of a
truth it is this piety which, allying all creatures unto itself, is
profitable unto all things, having promise of the life that now is,
and of that which is to come.

Chapter IX

OF HIS ARDENT LOVE, AND YEARNING FOR
MARTYRDOM

1. Of the ardent love that glowed in
Francis, the friend of the Bridegroom, who can avail to tell? He
seemed utterly consumed, like unto a coal that is set on fire, by the
flame of the love divine. For, at the mere mention of the love of the
Lord, he was aroused, moved, and enkindled, as though the inner
chords of his heart vibrated under the bow of the voice from without.
He would say that it was a magnificent largesse to offer such wealth
in exchange for alms, and that those who esteemed it of less worth
than money were verily fools, for that the priceless price of the
divine love alone availeth to purchase the kingdom of heaven, and His
love Who hath loved us much is much to be loved.

That he might by all things be
stirred up unto the divine love, he triumphed in all the works of the
Lord’s hands, and through the sight of their joy was uplifted
unto their life-giving cause and origin. He beheld in fair things Him
Who is the most fair, and, through the traces of Himself that He hath
imprinted on His creatures, he everywhere followed on to reach the
Beloved, making of all things a ladder for himself whereby he might
ascend to lay hold on Him Who is the altogether lovely. For by the
impulse of his unexampled devotion he tasted that fountain of
goodness that streameth forth, as in rivulets, in every created
thing, and he perceived as it were an heavenly harmony in the concord
of the virtues and actions granted unto them by God, and did sweetly
exhort them to praise the Lord, even as the Prophet David had done.

2. Christ Jesus Crucified was laid,
as a bundle of myrrh, in his heart’s bosom, and he yearned to
be utterly transformed into Him by the fire of his exceeding love. By
reason of his chief and especial devotion unto Him, he would betake
him unto desert places, and seclude himself in a cell, from the Feast
of the Epiphany until the end of the forty days following, to wit,
for the space of time wherein Christ had sojourned in the wilderness.
There with all the abstinence from food and drink that he might
compass, he devoted himself without interruption unto fasting,
prayer, and the praises of God. With such glowing love was he moved
toward Christ, yea, and with such intimate love did his Beloved repay
his that it seemed unto the servant of God himself that he felt his
Saviour almost continually present before his eyes, even as he once
revealed unto his companions in intimate converse.

Toward the Sacrament of the Lord’s
Body he felt a glowing devotion that consumed the very marrow of his
bones, marvelling with utmost amazement at that most loving
condescension and condescending love. Oft did he communicate, and so
devoutly as to render others devout, while, as he tasted of the
sweetness of that Lamb without spot, he became like one inebriated in
spirit, and rapt out of himself in ecstasy.

3. He loved with an unspeakable
affection the Mother of the Lord Jesus Christ, forasmuch as that she
had made the Lord of Glory our Brother, and that through her we have
obtained mercy. In her, after Christ, he put his chief trust, making
her his own patron and that of his Brethren, and in her honour he
fasted most devoutly from the Feast of the Apostles Peter and Paul
until the Feast of the Assumption. He was bound by ties of
inseparable affection unto the Angelic spirits that do glow with
wondrous fire to approach God, and in the kindling of elect souls,
and out of devotion unto them he would fast for forty days from the
Assumption of the glorious Virgin, remaining instant in prayer
throughout that time. Unto the Blessed Michael Archangel,—inasmuch
as his is the ministry of bringing souls before God,—he
cherished an especial love and devotion, by reason of the ardent zeal
that he had for the salvation of all such as should be saved. When he
called to remembrance all the Saints, he was kindled afresh, as if
they had been stones of fire, with the flame of heavenly love; he
regarded with the utmost devotion all the Apostles, and in especial
Peter and Paul, by reason of the glowing love that they bore toward
Christ, and out of reverence and love for them he dedicated unto the
Lord the fast of an especial Lent. The poor man of Christ had naught
save two mites, to wit, his body and soul, that he could give away in
his large-hearted charity. But these, for the love of Christ, he
offered up so continuously as that at all seasons, through the rigour
of his fasting, he made an offering of his body, and through the
fervour of his yearnings, of his spirit, sacrificing in the outer
court a whole burnt-offering, and within, in the Temple, burning
sweet incense.

4. Now this exceeding devotion of
love uplifted him into the divine in such wise as that his loving
goodwill extended unto those that had received with him a like nature
and grace. For it is no wonder if he, whose affectionate heart had
made him kin unto all created things, was by the love of Christ drawn
into yet closer kinship with such as were sealed with the likeness of
their Creator, and redeemed by the Blood of their Maker. He esteemed
himself no friend of Christ did he not cherish the souls that He had
redeemed. He would say that naught was to be preferred before the
salvation of souls, proving this chiefly by the fact that the
Only-Begotten Son of God deigned to hang on the Cross for the sake of
men’s souls. Unto this end he wrestled in prayer, this was the
theme of his preaching, and this the cause of his exceeding zeal in
setting an ensample. Wherefore, whensoever some excessive austerity
was blamed in him, he would make answer that he had been given as an
ensample unto others. For albeit his guileless flesh had already
voluntarily subjected itself unto his spirit, and needed no
chastisement by reason of transgressions, nevertheless, for the sake
of ensample, he was ever renewing in it punishments and penances,
walking in hard paths for the sake of others. For he would say:
“Though I speak with the tongues of men and of Angels, and have
not charity, I shall set no ensample of virtues unto my neighbours, I
shall profit others little, and mine own self naught.”

5. He emulated, with an ardent flame
of love, the glorious victory of the holy Martyrs, whose burning love
could not be quenched, nor their constancy broken down. Accordingly
he too, kindled by that perfect love that casteth out fear, yearned
to offer himself up as a living sacrifice unto the Lord in martyr
flames, that he might pay back somewhat in his turn unto Christ Who
died for us, and might stir up others unto the love of God.
Wherefore, in the sixth year from his conversion, burning with desire
for martyrdom, he was minded to cross unto the regions of Syria to
preach the Christian faith, and penitence, unto the Saracens and
other infidels. When he had embarked on a ship that he might voyage
thither, contrary winds prevailed, and he had perforce to land on the
coasts of Slavonia. When he had delayed there some time, nor could
find any ship that was then crossing the sea, feeling himself cheated
of his desire, he besought some sailors that were making for Ancona
to take him aboard, for the love of God. When they persisted in their
refusal because of his lack of money, the man of God, putting all his
trust in the goodness of the Lord, embarked secretly on board the
ship with his companion. A certain man was present,—sent, as is
believed, from God on behalf of His poor one,—and he took with
him the necessary victual, and, calling unto him one on the ship that
feared God, spake thus unto him: “Keep faithfully all these
things for the poor Brethren that lie hid on the ship, and in their
hour of need deal them out unto them as a friend.” It befell
that, owing unto strong winds, the sailors were unable for many days
to touch land anywhere, and had consumed all their own provisions,
and only the alms brought for the poor man Francis were left. These,
though they had been but scanty, were by the divine power so
multiplied as that, during many days’ delay at sea by reason of
incessant storms, they fully supplied the needs of all until they
made the port of Ancona. Then the sailors, seeing that through the
servant of God they had escaped manifold agonies of death,—like
men that had known the dire perils of the sea, and had seen the works
of the Lord and His wonders in the deep,—rendered thanks unto
Almighty God, Who doth ever shew Himself marvellous and loveworthy in
His friends and servants.

6. When, leaving the sea behind,
Francis began to travel through the land, sowing therein the seed of
salvation, he gained rich sheaves. Then, because the fruit of
martyrdom had so enchanted his heart that he preferred above all
merits of virtues a costly death for Christ’s sake, he took his
way toward Morocco, that he might preach unto Miramolin and his
people the Gospel of Christ, if by any means he might avail to gain
the coveted palm. For he was borne along by so mighty a desire that,
albeit weak in body, he outran the comrade of his pilgrimage, and
flew with all speed to fulfil his purpose, like one inebriated in
spirit. But when he had advanced as far as Spain, by the divine will,
that reserved him for other ends, a very heavy sickness fell upon
him, and hindered him so that he could not fulfil his desire. Then
the man of God,—perceiving that his life in the body was still
needful for the family that he had begotten, albeit he deemed that
for himself to die was gain,—returned to feed the sheep that
had been committed unto his care.

7. Howbeit his glowing charity urged
his spirit on unto martyrdom, and yet a third time he essayed to set
forth toward the infidels, that by the shedding of his blood the
Faith of the Trinity might be spread abroad. Thus in the thirteenth
year of his conversion he set forth for the regions of Syria,
continually exposing himself unto many perils that so he might win
entrance into the presence of the Soldan of Babylon. For at that time
there was relentless war between the Christians and the Saracens, and
the camps of both armies were pitched each over against the other in
the plain, so that none might pass from one unto the other without
peril of death. Moreover, a cruel edict had gone forth from the
Soldan that any who should bring the head of a Christian should
receive a gold bezant as reward. Nevertheless, the undaunted soldier
of Christ, Francis, hoping that he was shortly about to gain his end,
determined to continue on his way, not dismayed by the fear of death,
but urged on by his yearning therefor. And as he prepared himself by
prayer, he was strengthened of the Lord, and boldly chanted that
verse of the Prophet: “Yea, though I walk through the valley of
the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me.’’

8. Then, taking the Brother that was
his companion, Illuminato by name, a man verily of illumination and
virtue, they started on their way. And, meeting two lambs, the holy
man was gladdened at the sight, and said unto his companion: “Put
thy trust, Brother, in the Lord, for in us that saying of the Gospel
is fufilled: Behold, I send you forth as sheep in the midst of
wolves.” When they had gone on further, the bands of the
Saracens met them, and they, like wolves making haste to fall upon
sheep, brutally seized the servants of God, and cruelly and
despitefully dragged them along, casting abuse at them, vexing them
with stripes and binding them in fetters. Thus in manifold wise
tormented and beaten down, they were brought before the Soldan, the
divine counsel so disposing as the holy man had desired. When that
prince demanded of them from whom, and for what purpose, and after
what manner they had been sent, and how they had come thither, the
servant of Christ, Francis, made answer with undaunted heart that he
had been sent not by man, but by God Most High, that he might shew
unto him and his people the way of salvation, and might preach the
Gospel of truth. With such firmness of mind, with such courage of
soul, and with such fervour of spirit he preached unto the Soldan
aforesaid God Three and One and the Saviour of all, Jesus Christ,
that in him was manifestly and truly fulfilled that saying of the
Gospel: “I will give you a mouth and wisdom, which all your
adversaries shall not be able to gainsay nor resist.” For, as
the Soldan beheld the marvellous fervour of spirit and valour of the
man of God, he heard him gladly and did right earnestly invite him to
tarry with him. Then the servant of Christ, taught by the heavenly
counsel, said: “If thou, together with thy people, wilt be
converted unto Christ, for the love of Him I will right gladly tarry
among you. But if thou art hesitating whether to give up the law of
Mahomet for the faith of Christ, do thou command that a great fire be
kindled and I will enter the fire with thy priests, that even thus
thou mayest learn which faith is the surer, and holier, and most
worthy of being held. Unto whom the Soldan made answer: “ I do
not believe that any of my priests would be ready to expose himself
unto the fire in defence of his faith, or to undergo any sort of
torture.” For he had seen that, so soon as mention of this was
made, one of his priests, an aged man and one in authority, had fled
from his presence. Unto whom the holy man replied: “ If thou
wilt promise me, on behalf of thyself and thy people, that thou wilt
embrace the faith of Christ, if I come forth from the fire unscathed,
I will enter the fire alone; if I am burned, let it be set down unto
my sins, but if the divine might protect me, ye shall know that
Christ, the power of God and the wisdom of God, is the true God and
the Lord and Saviour of all.” Howbeit, the Soldan replied that
he dare not accede unto this proposition, for that he feared a revolt
of his people. But he offered him many costly gifts, all of which the
man of God, hungering, not for worldly goods, but for the salvation
of souls, contemned like mire. The Soldan, perceiving the holy man to
be so absolute a despiser of worldly things, was moved with amazement
and conceived a greater devotion for him. And, albeit he would not,
or perchance dared not, go over unto the Christian faith, he did
nevertheless devoutly pray the servant of Christ to receive the gifts
aforesaid, for his own salvation, and to bestow them upon Christian
poor folk, or on churches. But Francis, for that he shunned the
burden of money, and could not see in the soul of the Soldan any root
of true piety, would not agree thereunto.

9. Seeing, then, that he could
neither make progress in the conversion of that people, nor attain
his purpose, warned by a divine revelation, he returned unto the
regions of the faithfull. Now the mercy of God so ordained, and the
virtue of the holy man merited, and mercifully and marvellously it
befell, that the friend of Christ,—who with all his might
sought a death for His sake, and yet in no way could find
it,—nevertheless did not lose the coveted merit of martyrdom,
and was reserved to be signalled out unto posterity by an especial
distinction. Thus it befell that that divine fire glowed ever more
hotly in his heart, so that afterward it was openly manifested in his
flesh. O truly blessed man, whose flesh, albeit not stricken by the
tyrant’s steel, was nevertheless not left without the likeness
of the Lamb that was slain! O fully and truly blessed, I say, whose
life, albeit not cut off by the sword of the persecutor, did yet not
lose the palm of martyrdom!

Chapter X

OF HIS ZEAL AND EFFICACY IN PRAYER

1. Francis, the servant of Christ,
feeling himself in the body to be absent from the Lord, had now
through the love of Christ become wholly untouched by earthly
desires, wherefore,—that he might not be without the
consolation of his Beloved,—he prayed without ceasing, striving
ever to manifest a spirit present with God. Prayer was a consolation
unto him in contemplation, while, being already made a fellow-citizen
with the Angels in the circle of the heavenly mansions, with ardent
yearning he sought his Beloved, from Whom the wall of the flesh alone
parted him. It was, moreover, a defence unto him in his labours,
while in all that he did, distrusting his own working, and relying on
the heavenly goodness, he cast all his care upon the Lord in earnest
prayer.

He would confidently affirm that the
grace of prayerfulness should be more desired than all others by the
religious man, and,—believing that without it no good could be
wrought in the service of God,—he would stir up his Brethren
unto zeal therefor by all means that he could. For, whether walking
or sitting, within doors or without, in toil or at leisure, he was so
absorbed in prayer as that he seemed to have devoted thereunto not
only his whole heart and body, but also his whole labour and time.

2. Nor was he ever wont to pass over
heedlessly any spiritual visitation. When it came unto him, he
followed after it, and, for as long as the Lord granted it unto him,
he rejoiced in its proffered sweetness. If, while absorbed in thought
on a journey, he felt some breathings of the divine Spirit, he would
let his companions go on before, and would himself stay his steps,
and turn the new inspiration into fruitfulness, not receiving the
grace in vain. Ofttimes he was rapt in such ecstasies of
contemplation as that he was carried out of himself, and, while
perceiving things beyond mortal sense, knew naught of what was
happening in the outer world around him.

Thus, when he was passing on a time
through Borgo San Sepolcro, a very populous town, riding on an ass
because of his bodily weakness, he met crowds of folk that ran
together out of devotion unto him. Yet albeit they touched him, and
delayed his progress, crowding round him and in many ways pressing
upon him, he seemed as one that felt naught, and, even as though he
had been a dead body, perceived no whit what was being done around
him. Accordingly, when they had long since passed through the town
and left the crowds behind them, and had come unto a certain leper
settlement, that contemplator of heavenly things, like one returning
from another world, anxiously enquired when they would draw nigh unto
Borgo. For his mind, intent on heavenly glories, had not perceived
the changes of place and time, nor of the folk that met them.

And that this oft befell him, the
repeated experience of his companions attested.

3. Moreover,—as he had
experienced in prayer that the longed-for presence of the Holy Spirit
vouchsafed itself by so much the more intimately unto suppliants as
it found them removed from the noise of worldlings,—he would
seek lonely places, going to pray by night in solitudes and in
deserted churches. There ofttimes he endured dire assaults from
demons, who, struggling with him in perceptible form, strove to
disturb him in his exercise of prayer. But he, furnished with
heavenly arms, the more desperate his enemies’ attack, was
rendered by so much the more strong in might and fervent in prayer,
saying with confidence unto Christ: “Hide me under the shadow
of Thy wings, from the wicked that oppress me.” But unto the
demons he would say: “Do unto me aught that ye can, evil and
false spirits. For ye have no power, save that which is granted you
from the divine hand, and here am I, ready to bear with all gladness
all things whatsoever that has decreed to inflict upon me.”
Then the proud demons, not able to brook this constancy of mind,
retreated in confusion.

4. But the man of God, remaining
alone and at peace, filled the woods with his sighing, bedewed the
ground with his tears, and beat his breast with his hands, and, like
one who hath gained a secret and hidden thing, spake familiarly with
his Lord. There he made answer unto his Judge, there he made
supplication unto his Father, there he held converse with his Friend,
there too he was at times heard by the Brethren, who out of filial
piety watched him, to invoke the divine mercy for sinners with cries
and wailings, yea, and to lament aloud as though the Lord’s
Passion were set before his eyes. There he was beheld praying by
night, his hands stretched out after the manner of a Cross, his whole
body uplifted from the earth, and wrapt in a shining cloud, as though
the wondrous illumination of the body were a witness unto the
wondrous enlightenment of his mind. There, moreover, as is attested
by sure signs, the unknown and hidden things of the divine wisdom
were laid bare unto him, albeit he did not publish them abroad, save
in so far as the love of Christ constrained him, and the profit of
his neighbours demanded. For he would say: “For a trifling
gain, one may chance to lose a priceless thing, and may easily
provoke him that gave it to give no more.”

When he returned from his private
prayers, in the which he became changed almost into another man, he
endeavoured with all diligence to make himself like unto others, lest
perchance that which was shewn outwardly should by the breath of
popular applause depart from the gain within. Whensoever he was rapt
on a sudden in public, and visited of the Lord, he would alway make
some pretext unto them that stood by, lest the intimate visitations
of the Spouse should be published abroad. When that he was praying
among the Brethren, he utterly avoided coughings, groanings, hard
breathing, and outward gestures, either because he loved secrecy, or
because, shutting himself up within himself, he was wholly borne away
unto God. Ofttimes he would speak on this wise unto his intimate
companions: “When the servant of God is visited of God in
prayer, he ought to say ‘This comfort, O Lord, Thou hast sent
from heaven unto me, a sinner and unworthy, and I commit it unto Thy
care, for that I feel me to be a thief of Thy treasure.’ When,
therefore, he returneth from praying, he ought thus to shew himself
as a little poor One and a sinner, not as one who hath attained unto
any new grace.”

5. Once when the man of God was
praying in the place of the Little Portion, it chanced that the
Bishop of Assisi came to visit him, as was his wont. He at once on
entering the place betook him unto the cell wherein the servant of
Christ was praying, with more boldness than was seemly, and, knocking
at the door, was about to enter; but, as he thrust in his head, and
beheld the Saint in prayer, a sudden trembling gat hold of him, his
limbs became rigid, and he lost the power of speech; then suddenly he
was driven forth by force, by the divine will, and with returning
steps was led afar off. All astonied, the Bishop hastened unto the
Brethren with all the speed he might, and, God restoring unto him his
speech, with his first words he declared his fault.

It befell on a time that the Abbot of
the Monastery of Saint Justin in the diocese of Perugia met the
servant of Christ. Beholding him, the devout Abbot with all speed
alighted from his horse, that he might both do reverence unto the man
of God and hold some converse with him concerning his soul’s
welfare. At length, their sweet conference over, the Abbot, as he
departed, humbly besought that prayers should be offered on his
behalf. Unto whom the man dear unto God made answer: “I will
pray for thee with goodwill.” Accordingly, when the Abbot had
departed a little space, the faithful Francis spake unto his
companion: “Tarry for me awhile. Brother, for I am minded to
pay the debt that I have promised.” While, then, he was
praying, on a sudden the Abbot felt in his spirit an unwonted glow
and a sweetness hitherto unknown, in such wise as that he was carried
out of himself in an ecstasy, and wholly loosed from himself and
absorbed in God. This lasted but for a brief space, after which he
came unto himself again, and recognised the efficacy of the prayer of
Saint Francis. Thenceforward he did alway bum with greater love
toward the Order, and recounted this event unto many as a miracle.

6. The holy man was wont to say the
Canonical Hours before God not less reverently than devoutly. For
albeit he suffered from infirmities of the eyes, the stomach, spleen,
and liver, yet would he never lean against an outer or inner wall,
while he was intoning them, but alway said the Hours standing
upright, and without his hood, not letting his eyes roam about, nor
cutting short his words. If he were on a journey, he would, when the
time came, stay his steps, nor would he omit this reverent and holy
habit for any storm of rain. For he would say: “If the body
needeth quiet when it partaketh of the bread that, like itself, shall
become food for worms, with how much peace and calm doth it behove
the soul to receive the Bread of Life ?” Grievously did he
consider himself to have stumbled if ever, while giving himself unto
prayer, his mind was led astray of empty fantasies. When anything of
the like happened, he made mention thereof in confession, that he
might forthwith atone for it. This earnestness he had so turned into
an habit that right seldom did he suffer from flies of this sort.

One Lent, he had made a little vase,
that he might fill up his spare moments, and they not be utterly
wasted. But forasmuch as while saying Tierce this came into his
memory and a little distracted his mind, he, moved by the fervour of
his spirit, burnt the little vase in the fire, saying: “I will
sacrifice it unto the Lord, Whose sacrifice it hath hindered.”
It was his wont to say the Psalms with mind and spirit as attent as
though he saw God present before his eyes, and when the Name of the
Lord occurred therein, he seemed to refresh his very lips with the
savour of its sweetness. He was fain that that same Name of the Lord,
not alone when it was meditated upon, but also when it was uttered or
written, should be honoured with an especial reverence, and at times
he would prevail on the Brethren to collect all papers with writing
upon them, wheresoever they might find them, and to lay them in some
seemly place, lest perchance that sacred Name might happen to be
written thereon, and so trodden underfoot. And when he uttered or
heard the Name of Jesus, he was filled with an inward rejoicing, and
seemed all transfigured outwardly, as though some honey-sweet taste
had soothed his palate, or some melodious sound his ear.

7. Now three years before his death
it befell that he was minded, at the town of Greccio, to celebrate
the memory of the Birth of the Child Jesus, with all the added
solemnity that he might, for the kindling of devotion. That this
might not seem an innovation, he sought and obtained license from the
Supreme Pontiff, and then made ready a manger, and bade hay, together
with an ox and an ass, be brought unto the spot. The Brethren were
called together, the folk assembled, the wood echoed with their
voices, and that august night was made radiant and solemn with many
bright lights, and with tuneful and sonorous praises. The man of God,
filled with tender love, stood before the manger, bathed m tears, and
overflowing with joy. Solemn Masses were celebrated over the manger,
Francis, the Levite of Christ, chanting the Holy Gospel. Then he
preached unto the folk standing round of the Birth of the King in
poverty, calling Him, when he wished to name Him, the Child of
Bethlehem, by reason of his tender love for Him. A certain knight,
valorous and true, Messer John of Greccio, who for the love of Christ
had left the secular army, and was bound by closest friendship unto
the man of God, declared that he beheld a little Child right fair to
see sleeping in that manger. Who seemed to be awakened from sleep
when the blessed Father Francis embraced Him in both arms. This
vision of the devout knight is rendered worthy of belief, not alone
through the holiness of him that beheld it, but is also confirmed by
the truth that it set forth, and withal proven by the miracles that
followed it. For the ensample of Francis, if meditated upon by the
world, must needs stir up sluggish hearts unto the faith of Christ,
and the hay that was kept back from the manger by the folk proved a
marvellous remedy for sick beasts, and a prophylactic against divers
other plagues, God magnifying by all means His servant, and making
manifest by clear and miraculous portents the efficacy of his holy
prayers.

Chapter XI

OF HIS UNDERSTANDING OF THE SCRIPTURES, AND
OF HIS SPIRIT OF PROPHECY

1. Unto such a tranquillity of mind
had his unwearied zeal for prayer and continuous practice of virtue
brought the man of God that—albeit he had no instruction or
learning in the sacred writings—yet, illumined by the beams of
eternal light, he searched the deep things of the Scriptures with
marvellous intellectual discernment. For his genius, pure from all
stain, penetrated into the hidden places of the mysteries, and, where
the learning of a theologian tarrieth without, the feelings of the
lover led him in. At times he would read in the sacred books, and
whatsoever had once been presented unto his mind became indelibly
imprinted on his memory, for it was not in vain that he comprehended
by hearing and by an attent mind that which he ever meditated upon
with the love of an unceasing devotion. Once when the Brethren asked
whether it were his will that the clerks that had been already
received into the Order should devote themselves unto the study of
Holy Scripture, he made answer: “It is indeed my will, yet for
so long alone as they follow the example of Christ, Who, we read,
prayed more than He read, and for so long as they do not lose their
zeal for prayer, nor study only that they may know how they ought to
speak; rather let them study that they may be doers of the word, and,
when they have done it, may set forth unto others what they too
should do. I am fain, (saith he), that my Brethren should be learners
of the Gospel, and thus make progress in knowledge of the truth, that
they should grow in the purity of guilelessness, so that they sever
not the harmlessness of the dove from the wisdom of the serpent,
which twain the greatest Teacher hath joined together with His
blessed mouth.”

2. Being asked at Siena by a certain
devout man, a doctor of sacred theology, concerning sundry problems
hard of understanding, he laid bare the hidden things of the divine
wisdom with such luminous exposition that that learned man was
mightily astonied, and exclaimed in amazement: “Verily, the
theology of this holy Father, borne aloft by purity and meditation as
though by wings, is as a flying eagle, while our learning creepeth on
its belly on the earth.” For, albeit he were unskilled in
speech, yet, full of learning, he unravelled the knots of problems,
and the thing that was hid he brought forth into the light. Nor was
it unfitting that the holy man should receive from God an
understanding of the Scriptures, seeing that by the imitation of
Christ he fulfilled and set forth in his deeds their perfect truth,
and by the abundant anointing of the Holy Spirit had within him, in
his own heart, an instructor therein.

3. So mightily did the spirit of
prophecy shine forth in him that he both foreknew what was to come,
and beheld the secrets of men’s hearts, and perceived absent
things as though they were present, and in wondrous wise manifested
his own presence unto them that were absent. For on a time when the
Christian army was besieging Damietta, the man of God was present,
fortified not by arms but by faith. When on the day of battle the
Christians were preparing them for the conflict, and the servant of
Christ heard thereof, he groaned bitterly, and said unto his
companion: “If they essay to join battle, the Lord hath shewn
me that it will not fare well with the Christians; but, if I say
this, I shall be accounted a fool; if I keep silence, I shall not
escape the reproaches of my conscience. What, then, dost thou
advise?” His companion replied: “Brother, do thou esteem
it but a light thing to be judged of men, for that thou dost not now
make a beginning of being accounted a fool. Unburden thy conscience,
and fear God rather than men.” Hearing this, the herald of
Christ hastened forth, and approached the Christians with salutary
warnings, forbidding the battle, and prophesying its issue. The truth
was unto them as a vain tale, they hardened their hearts and would
not turn back. They went into the field, they joined battle, they
fought, and the entire Christian host was put to the rout, thus
winning shame, not triumph, as the ending of the warfare. In this
dread defeat, the Christian host was so diminished that there were
about six thousand slain or captured. Thereby was it clearly made
manifest that the wisdom of the poor man, Francis, had not been meet
for contempt, for the mind of a righteous man is sometime wont to
tell him more than seven watchmen, that sit above in an high tower.

4. At another time, when he was
returned from beyond seas, and had come unto Celano to preach, a
certain Knight with humble devoutness and great importunity invited
him to dine with him. He came accordingly unto the house of the
Knight, and the whole household rejoiced over the coming of their
poor guests. Before they partook of the meal, Francis, as he was
wont, stood with eyes uplift to heaven, with a devout mind offering
unto God prayers and praises. His prayer ended, he called aside his
kindly host in familiar wise, and thus addressed him: “Lo, my
brother and host, yielding unto thine importunity I have come unto
thy house to eat. Do thou now yield speedily unto my exhortations,
forasmuch as thou shalt eat not here, but elsewhere. Confess now thy
sins, and be contrite with the grief of a true repentance, nor let
aught abide in thee that thou dost not lay bare in sincere
confession. The Lord will reward thee this day for that thou hast
received His poor with such devoutness.” The Knight yielded
forthwith unto the words of the holy man, unto whose companion he
disclosed all his sins in confession, and then set his house in
order, and prepared himself, in so far as he might, for death. At
length they sat down to table, and, while the rest were beginning to
eat, the host on a sudden gave up the ghost, carried off by a sudden
death according unto the word of the man of God. And thus it befell,
by the merits of his gracious hospitality, that, according unto the
Word of truth, “He that receiveth a prophet shall receive a
prophet’s reward”; for by the prophetic prediction of the
holy man that devout Knight made himself ready against the sudden
onset of death, inasmuch as, fortified by the weapons of penitence,
he was able to escape eternal condemnation and enter into the
everlasting tabernacles.

5. Once on a time, while the holy man
was lying sick at Rieti, a prebendary, Gideon by name, a man unstable
and worldly, that had been stricken with a sore disease and was lying
in his bed, was brought unto him, and with tears besought him—as
did the bystanders—that he would make over him the sign of the
Cross. Unto him he said: “Since aforetime thou wert living
after the lusts of the flesh, not fearing the judgements of God, how
can I sign thee with the Cross? Howbeit, for the sake of the devout
prayers of these that plead for thee, I will make over thee the sign
of the Cross in the name of the Lord. Yet be thou well assured that a
worse thing will befall thee if, when thou hast been set free, thou
shalt return unto thy vomit. For the sin of ingratitude ever bringeth
with it worse evils than were suffered afore.” Then, when the
sign of the Cross was made over him, at once he that had lain
paralysed rose up whole, and, breaking forth into God’s
praises, “I,” saith he, “am set free!” His
bones cracked within him, in the hearing of many, even as when dry
wood is broken by the hand. Yet when but a short time had passed by,
he forgat God, and again yielded his body unto unchastity. When one
evening he had supped in the house of a certain Canon, and was
sleeping there that night, on a sudden the roof of the house fell in
above them all. But while the rest escaped death, that wretched man
alone was overtaken and cut off. Thus by a righteous judgement of God
the last state of that man was worse than the first, by reason of his
sin of ingratitude, and contempt of God, since it had behoved him to
be grateful for the pardon that he had gained, and since a crime when
repeated is twofold an offence.

6. On another time, a devout woman of
noble birth came unto the holy man to unfold her grief unto him and
to ask a remedy. Now she had a right cruel husband, from whom she
suffered opposition in the service of Christ, wherefore she besought
the holy man that he would pray for him that God would deign to
soften his heart with His own mercy. Hearing this, Francis said unto
her, “Go in peace, and confidently await from thine husband the
comfort that he shall speedily afford thee.” And he added: “Say
unto him from God and from me that now is the day of mercy, hereafter
that of justice.” When he had blessed her, the woman returned,
found her husband, and declared what had been spoken. Then the Holy
Spirit fell upon him and changed him into a new man, making him in
all gentleness reply thus: “Lady, let us serve the Lord, and
save our souls.” Then by the persuasions of his devout wife for
many years they lived a life of continence, and both on the same day
departed unto the Lord. Of a truth, we must marvel at the might of
the spirit of prophecy that was found in the man of God, through the
which he restored unto withered limbs their power, and impressed on
hard hearts godliness; albeit no less must we be astonied at the
clear perception of that spirit, whereby he so foreknew the issue of
future events that he could search even the secret things of men’s
consciences, having obtained, like another Elisha, a double portion
of the spirit of Elias.

7. Once when at Siena he had
decisively foretold unto a certain friend some events that should
come to pass, that learned man—of whom mention hath been made
above as to his conferring with him about the Scriptures—heard
thereof, and, doubting, asked the holy Father whether he had said the
things that he had heard from the narration of that other. Then
Francis not only declared that he had so spoken, but also foretold by
prophecy that man’s own end, who was thus asking concerning
another. And that he might the more surely impress this on his heart,
he revealed unto him a certain hidden scruple of his conscience,
which that man had never laid bare unto any living, and by thus
marvellously revealing the same he explained it, and by his salutary
counsels laid it low. To confirm the truth of all this, it befell
that that same devout man came unto his end at the last in the manner
foretold him by the servant of Christ.

8. Once, moreover, when he was
returning from beyond sea, with Brother Leonard of Assisi as his
companion, it chanced that, worn out and weary as he was, he was
riding on an ass. His companion, as he followed him,—himself no
little wearied,—began to say within himself, with a touch of
human weakness: “This man’s family was not of equal
standing with mine own. And now, look you, he rideth, and I on foot
lead his ass.” Even as he thus reasoned, the holy man forthwith
dismounted from the ass, saying : “It is not fitting. Brother,
that I should ride, and thou walk afoot, for that in the world thou
wert of nobler birth and more standing than I.” Then the
Brother was dumb with amazement, and blushed for shame, and,
perceiving his fault, fell at the other’s feet, which he
bedewed with tears, and laid bare what had been his thought, and
implored pardon.

9. A certain Brother, devoted unto
God, and unto the servant of Christ, oft meditated in his heart how
that one must be meet for the divine grace whom the holy man embraced
with intimate friendship, yet nevertheless he thought himself
considered of God as a stranger, outside the number of the elect.
Being, then, ofttimes harassed by the oncoming of such thoughts, he
ardently desired the intimate friendship of the man of God, yet did
not lay bare unto any the secret of his heart; him the kindly Father
called gently unto him, and thus addressed: “Let no thoughts
disturb thee, my son, for I hold thee most dear, and amongst those
most especially dear unto me I do gladly bestow upon thee the gift of
my friendship and my love.” Thereat the Brother marvelled, and
from being devout became ever more devout, and not only increased in
love of the holy man, but was also laden, through the gift of the
grace of the Holy Spirit, with greater endowments.

Now while Francis was sojourning on
Mount Alverna, secluded in his cell, one of his companions did
mightily desire to possess some of the words of the Lord written by
his hand, and with brief notes thereupon. For, having it, he believed
that he might escape a grievous temptation, not of the flesh, but of
the spirit, by the which he was distressed, or assuredly might be
enabled to bear it more easily. While he was pining with such a
desire, he suffered torments within, being overcome with
shamefastness, nor daring to lay the matter before his venerated
Father. But though man told it not unto him, the Spirit revealed it.
For he bade the Brother aforesaid bring unto him ink and parchment,
and according unto the desire of the Brother he wrote with his own
hand the praises of the Lord thereon, and finally, a blessing for
him, saying: “Take unto thyself this parchment, and keep it
with care until the day of thy death.” The Brother received the
gift he had so desired, and forthwith that temptation utterly
departed from him. The writing was preserved, and forasmuch as in
later days it wrought miracles, it became a witness unto the virtues
of Francis.

10. Now there was a Brother eminent,
in so far as outward appearance went, for his sanctity, distinguished
in his converse, yet somewhat singular in bearing. Devoting his whole
time unto prayer, he observed silence with such rigour as that he was
wont to make his confession not by words, but by nods. Now it chanced
that the holy Father came unto that place and beheld the Brother, and
spake concerning him with the other Brethren. When they all praised
and glorified him, the man of God made answer: “Beware,
Brethren, lest ye praise unto me in him the deceitful semblances of
the devil. Know in truth that this is a temptation of the devil, and
a deceitful snare.” The Brethren were loth to believe this,
judging it almost impossible that the devices of a false seeming
should adorn themselves with so many evidences of perfection. Yet of
a truth, on his leaving the Religion not many days after, it was
manifestly seen with what clearness of inward vision the man of God
had discerned the secrets of his heart.

After this manner he would predict
with irrefragable truth the fall of many who seemed to stand, but
also the conversion unto Christ of many who were turned aside, so
that he seemed to have approached unto the mirror of eternal light to
gaze therein, and by its wondrous radiance the sight of his mind
surely perceived things that were absent in bodily form, even as
though they were present.

11. Thus, on a time when his Vicar
was holding a Chapter, and he himself was in his cell praying, he was
a mediator between the Brethren and God. For when one of them,
sheltering himself under some cloak of defence, would not yield
himself up unto discipline, the holy man beheld this in spirit, and
called one of the Brethren, and said unto him: “I saw, Brother,
the devil sitting upon the back of that disobedient Brother, holding
his neck gripped, for he, driven by such a master, spurning the
bridle of obedience, had given the reins unto his instincts. And when
I besought God for the Brother, at once the devil withdrew in
confusion. Go then and bid the Brother yield his neck with all speed
unto the yoke of holy obedience.” The Brother, exhorted by the
messenger, forthwith turned unto God, and humbly threw himself at the
feet of the Vicar.

12. Again it befell on a time that
two Brethren had come from afar unto the hermitage of Greccio, that
they might behold the man of God, and carry away with them his
blessing, the which they had long time coveted. They came and found
him not, for that he had returned from the common dwelling-place unto
his cell, wherefore they were departing disconsolately. Lo, as they
were withdrawing, Francis, who could have known naught by human
perception of their arrival or departure, contrary unto his wont came
forth of his cell, called after them, and, according unto their
desire, made the sign of the Cross over them, blessing them in the
name of Christ.

13. Once two Brethren were come from
Terra di Lavoro, the elder of whom had given some offence unto the
younger. But when they came before the Father, he asked of the
younger how the Brother that was his companion had behaved toward him
on the way. On his making answer: “Well enough,” he
responded: “Beware, Brother, that thou lie not under pretext of
humility, for I know, I know,—do thou wait a while and thou
shalt see.” The Brother was mightily astonied in what wise he
had perceived in spirit what had taken place so far off. Accordingly,
not many days after, he that had given the offence unto the Brother,
spurning the Religion, went out utterly, not seeking pardon from the
Father, nor submitting unto the discipline of correction that was his
due. Thus two things were made manifest at the same time in the ruin
of this one man, to wit, the justice of the divine judgments, and the
clear vision of the spirit of prophecy.

In what wise Francis showed
himself present unto them that were absent, by the working of the
divine power, is clearly apparent from what hath been afore related,
if we recall unto mind how in his absence he appeared unto the
Brethren as one transfigured, in a chariot of fire, and how at the
Chapter of Arles he shewed himself with arms outstretched after the
likeness of a Cross. This we must believe to have been wrought by
the divine ruling, that by the miraculous appearance of his bodily
presence it might be abundantly evident how that his spirit was
present in and penetrated by the light of the eternal wisdom, which
is more moving than any motion, and goeth through all things by
reason of her pureness, and entering into holy souls maketh them
friends of God, and prophets. For the most exalted Teacher is wont
to reveal His mysteries unto the babes and simple, as was first seen
in David, the most lofty of the Prophets, and afterward in the
Prince of the Apostles, Peter, and lastly in Francis, the little
poor one of Christ. For these, albeit they were simple, and
unskilled in letters, were made famous by the teaching of the Holy
Spirit; the first a shepherd, to feed the flock of the Synagogue
that was brought forth out of Egypt; the second a fisher, to fill
the great net of the Church with a multitude of believers; the last
a merchantman, to buy the pearl of Gospel life, when that he had
sold and disposed of all things for the sake of Christ.

Chapter XII

OF THE EFFICACY OF HIS PREACHING, AND OF
HIS GIFT OF HEALING

1. The truly faithful servant and
minister of Christ, Francis, that he might faithfully and perfectly
fulfil all things, strove most chiefly to exercise those virtues that
he knew, by the guidance of the Holy Spirit, were most pleasing unto
his God. Wherefore it came to pass that he fell into great striving
with himself by reason of a doubt, the which that he might end,—on
his return after many days of prayer,—he set before the
Brethren that were his intimates. “What,” saith he, “do
ye counsel, Brethren, what do ye commend? Shall I devote myself unto
prayer, or I shall go about preaching? Of a truth, I that am little,
and simple, and rude in speech have received more grace of prayer
than of speaking. Now in prayer, there seemeth to be the gain and
heaping up of graces, in preaching, a certain giving out of the gifts
received from heaven; in prayer, again, a cleansing of the inward
feelings, and an union with the one, true, and highest good, together
with a strengthening of virtue; in preaching, the spiritual feet wax
dusty, and many things distract a man, and discipline is relaxed.
Finally, in prayer, we speak with God and hear Him, and live as it
were the life of Angels, while we converse with Angels; in preaching,
we must needs practise much condescension toward men and living among
them as fellow-men must think, see, say, and hear such things as
pertain unto men. Yet one thing is there to set against these, the
which in God’s sight would seem to weigh more than they all, to
wit, that the only-begotten Son of God, Who is the highest wisdom,
left His Father’s bosom for the salvation of souls, that,
instructing the world by His ensample, He might preach the word of
salvation unto men, whom He both redeemed at the cost of His sacred
Blood, and cleansed in a laver and gave them to drink, keeping back
naught of Himself, but for our salvation freely bestowing all. And
forasmuch as we ought to do all things after the pattern of those
things that was shewn us in Him as on the lofty mount, it seemeth
that it might be more acceptable unto God that, laying aside leisure,
I should go forth unto the work.” And albeit for many days he
pondered over such sayings with the Brethren, he could not of a
surety discern whether of the twain he should choose as more truly
pleasing unto Christ. For albeit he had known many wondrous things
through the spirit of prophecy, he was not able thereby to resolve
this question clearly, the providence of God better ordaining, so
that the merit of preaching might be made evident by an heavenly
oracle, and the humility of Christ’s servant be kept intact.

2. He, true Brother Minor, was not
ashamed to ask little things from those less than himself, albeit he
had learnt great things from the greatest Teacher. For with an
especial zeal he was wont to enquire after what way and manner of
life he might most perfectly serve God according unto His will. This
was his highest philosophy, this his highest desire, so long as he
lived, so that he would enquire of wise and simple, of perfect and
imperfect, of young and old, in what wise he might with most holiness
attain unto the summit of perfection. Therefore, calling unto him
twain of the Brethren, he sent them unto Brother Silvester,—he
that had seen the Cross proceeding from his mouth, and was at that
time giving himself up unto continuous prayer in the mountain above
Assisi,—that he might seek an answer from God concerning this
doubt, and announce it unto him from the Lord. This same bidding he
laid upon the holy virgin Clare, that through some of the purer and
simpler of the virgins that were living under her rule, yea, and
through her own prayers united with those of the other Sisters, she
might ascertain the will of the Lord touching this matter. The
reverend priest and the virgin vowed unto God were marvellously in
agreement concerning this, the Holy Spirit revealing it unto them, to
wit, that it was the divine will that the herald of Christ should go
forth to preach. When, therefore, the Brethren returned, and,
according unto what they had heard, pointed out the will of God,
Francis forthwith rose and girded himself, and without any delay set
forth on his journey. And with such fervour did he go, to fulfil the
divine behest, and with such speed did he hasten on his way, that he
seemed—the hand of the Lord being upon him—to have put on
new power from heaven.

3. When he drew nigh unto Bevagna he
came unto a spot wherein a great multitude of birds of divers species
were gathered together. When the holy man of God perceived them, he
ran with all speed unto the place and greeted them as if they shared
in human understanding. They on their part all awaited him and turned
toward him, those that were perched on bushes bending their heads as
he drew nigh them, and looking on him in unwonted wise, while he came
right among them, and diligently exhorted them all to hear the word
of God, saying: “My brothers the birds, much ought ye to praise
your Creator, Who hath clothed you with feathers and given you wings
to fly, and hath made over unto you the pure air, and careth for you
without your taking thought for yourselves.” While he was
speaking unto them these and other like words, the little
birds—behaving themselves in wondrous wise—began to
stretch their necks, to spread their wings, to open their beaks, and
to look intently on him. He, with wondrous fervour of spirit, passed
in and out among them, touching them with his habit, nor did one of
them move from the spot until he had made the sign of the Cross over
them and given them leave; then, with the blessing of the man of God,
they all flew away together. All these things were witnessed by his
companions that stood awaiting him by the way. Returning unto them,
the simple and holy man began to blame himself for neglect in that he
had not afore then preached unto the birds.

4. Thence, while going among the
neighbouring places to preach, he came unto a town named Alviano,
where, when the folk were gathered together and silence had been
bidden, he could yet scarce be heard by reason of the swallows that
were there building their nests, and twittering with shrill cries.
The man of God, in the hearing of all, addressed them, and said: “My
sisters the swallows, ’tis now time that I too should speak,
seeing that until now ye have said your say. Hearken unto the word of
God, and keep silence, until the preaching of the Lord be ended.”
Then they, as though gifted with understanding, on a sudden fell
silent, nor moved from the spot until the whole preaching was
finished. All they that saw it were filled with amazement, and
glorified God. The report of this marvel spread on all sides, and
kindled in many reverence for the Saint, and devotion unto the faith.

5. Again, in the city of Parma, a
scholar of good disposition that with his comrades was busily intent
on study, was troubled by the importunate twittering of a certain
swallow, and began to say unto his comrades: “This swallow is
one of those that troubled the man of God, Francis, on a time when he
was preaching, until he bade them be silent.” Then, turning
unto the swallow, with all confidence he said: “In the name of
Francis, the servant of God, I bid thee come hither to me forthwith,
and keep silence.” Then the bird, hearing the name Francis,
like one instructed by the teaching of the man of God, at once fell
silent, and withal gave herself up into his hands as though into safe
keeping. The scholar, in amazement, forthwith set her free again, and
heard her twittering no more.

6. On another time, when the servant
of God was preaching on the seashore at Gaeta, crowds gathered about
him out of devotion, that they might touch him; whereupon the servant
of Christ, shrinking from such homage of the folk, leapt alone into a
little boat that was lying by the beach. And the boat, as though
impelled by a reasoning power from within, without any rowing put out
unto some distance from land, while all beheld it and marvelled. But
when it was withdrawn some little distance into deep water, it stayed
motionless among the waves, while the holy man preached unto the
waiting crowds upon the shore. When the discourse was ended, and the
miracle perceived, and his blessing given, the throng gave place, in
order that they might no more disturb him, and the little boat of its
own guidance put in again unto land.

Who then could be of so obstinate and
wicked mind as to despise the preaching of Francis, by whose wondrous
might it came to pass that not only creatures lacking reason were
amenable unto his correction, but that even lifeless objects, as
though they had life, ministered unto him while preaching?

7. Thus there was ever present with
His servant Francis, in whatsoever he did, He Who had anointed him
and sent him, the Spirit of the Lord, yea, and Christ Himself, Who is
the power of God and the wisdom of God, that he might abound in words
of healthful teaching and shine in the light of miracles of great
power. For his speech was as a burning fire, penetrating the secrets
of the heart, and he filled the minds of all with amazement, since he
set forth no adornments of men’s invention, but savoured of the
breath of divine revelation. Thus on a time, when he was about to
preach in the presence of the Pope and the Cardinals, at the
suggestion of the lord Bishop of Ostia he had committed unto memory a
certain carefully prepared sermon, and, standing in the midst to set
forth the words of edification, found that he had so utterly
forgotten it all as that he knew not how to speak a word thereof.
When with fruitful humility he had confessed this, he set himself to
invoke the grace of the Holy Spirit, and forthwith began to pour
forth words so mighty in effect, and of such wondrous power to move
the minds of those illustrious men unto repentance, as that it was
manifestly seen that it was not himself that spake, but the Spirit of
the Lord.

8. And forasmuch as he did himself
first practise that which he afterward preached unto others, he
feared none that might blame him, but did most faithfully preach the
truth. It was not his way to smooth over the faults of any, but to
smite them, nor to flatter the life of sinners, but rather to aim at
it with stem reproofs. Unto great and small alike he spake with the
same firm spirit, and he would as joyfully address him unto few as
unto many. Folk of every age and either sex hastened to see and to
hear this man, newly given unto the world from heaven. He, indeed, as
he went throughout divers districts, preached the Gospel with
fervour, the Lord working with him and confirming the word with signs
following. For in the power of His Name Francis, the herald of the
truth, did cast forth demons, heal the sick, and, what is more, by
the might of his preaching did soften and make penitent hard hearts,
restoring health unto body and mind at the same time, even as the
instances of his working to be cited below give proof.

9. In the city of Toscanella, he was
devoutly entertained as guest by a certain Knight, whose only son was
crippled from birth; at his own urgent entreaty, he raised him with
his hands, and so suddenly made him whole that, in the sight of all,
his limbs were all forthwith strengthened, and the boy, made whole
and strong, rose up at once, walking and leaping and praising God.

In the city of Narni, when, at the
entreaty of the Bishop, he had made the sign of the Cross from head
to foot over a certain paralytic who had lost the use of all his
limbs, he restored him perfectly unto health.

In the diocese of Rieti, a boy that
from the age of four had been so swollen that he could in no wise
look on his own legs, was brought unto him by his mother with tears,
and forthwith, when the Saint touched him with his holy hands, was
healed.

In the city of Orte, a boy was so
deformed that his head rested on his feet, and some of his bones were
broken; he, when Francis at the tearful entreaties of his parents had
made the sign of the Cross over him, on a sudden stood upright, and
was from that moment unloosed.

10. A certain woman in the city of
Gubbio had both her hands so withered and paralysed that she could do
no work with them; she, when Francis had made the sign of the Cross
over her in the name of the Lord, gained such absolute healing that,
returning home forthwith, she prepared with her own hands food for
him and for the poor, even as Peter’s wife’s mother did.

A girl in the town of Bevagna had
lost her sight, but when her eyes had been thrice anointed with his
spittle in the name of the Trinity she regained her longed-for sight.

A woman in the city of Narni,
stricken with blindness, when the sign of the Cross was made over her
by Francis, recovered the sight she yearned for.

A boy in Bologna had one of his eyes
so clouded by a spot that he could see nothing therewith, nor find
relief by any remedy; howbeit when the servant of the Lord had made
the sign of the Cross over him from head to foot, he recovered his
sight perfectly, insomuch as that, entering the Order of Brothers
Minor thereafter, he affirmed that he saw far better with the eye
that aforetime was clouded than with the eye that had been alway
sound.

In the town of San Gemini, the
servant of God was received as guest by a certain devout man whose
wife was tormented by a demon; after he had prayed, he commanded the
demon on obedience to go out from her, and by the divine power put
him so instantly to flight as that it became clearly evident that the
audacity of demons availeth not to resist the power of holy
obedience.

In Citta di Castello, a raging and
evil spirit possessed a woman; he, charged on obedience by the holy
man, went out in wrath, leaving the woman that had been possessed
free alike in mind and body.

11. One of the Brethren was afflicted
with such an horrible disease as that it was asserted of many to be
rather a tormenting from demons than a natural sickness. For ofttimes
he was quite dashed down on the ground, and wallowed foaming, with
his limbs now drawn up, now stretched forth, now folded, now twisted,
now become rigid and fixed. At times he was quite stretched out and
stiff, and with his feet on a level with his head, would be raised
into the air, and would then fall back again in dreadful fashion. The
servant of Christ, full of compassion, pitied him in his so
lamentable and incurable sickness, and sent unto him a morsel of the
bread wherefrom he had been eating. When the sick man had tasted the
bread, he received such power as that never thenceforward did he
suffer trouble from that sickness.

In the province of Arezzo, a woman
for many days had laboured in childbirth, and was now nigh unto
death; she was utterly despairing of her life, and no resource was
left her but in God. Now the servant of Christ, by reason of his
bodily weakness, had travelled on horseback through those regions,
and it chanced that the beast was led back through the village
wherein the woman lay suffering. The men of the place, seeing the
horse whereon the holy man had sat, took off the bridle, that they
might lay it on the woman, and at the marvellous touch thereof all
danger was banished, and the woman forthwith was delivered in safety.

A certain man of Citta della Pieve,
devout and one that feared God, had by him a cord wherewith the holy
Father had been girt. Whereas a great number of men and women in that
city were afflicted by divers diseases, he went among the homes of
them that were sick, and, dipping the cord in water, gave drink
therefrom unto the sufferers, and thus by this means very many were
cured. Moreover, the sick who tasted of bread touched by the man of
God, by the efficacy of the divine power obtained right speedily
healing cures.

12. Forasmuch as the preaching of the
herald of Christ was illuminated by these and many other portents and
miracles, the words that fell from him were listened for as eagerly
as though it were an Angel of the Lord speaking. For there was in him
a surpassing excellence of the virtues, the spirit of prophecy, power
of miracles, an eloquence in preaching inspired from heaven, the
submission unto him of the creatures that lack reason, a mighty
moving of men’s hearts at the hearing of his words, a learning
given him of the Holy Spirit beyond all human teaching, licence to
preach granted him by the supreme Pontiff as the result of a
revelation, yea, and the Rule too, wherein the manner of the
preaching was set forth, confirmed by that same Vicar of Christ, and,
finally, the signs of the King Most High imprinted on his body after
the manner of a seal; these gave unanswerable evidence unto the whole
world, as it were by ten witnesses, that Francis the herald of Christ
was worthy of reverence in his ministry, was of authority in his
teaching, and was to be marvelled at in his saintliness, and that
through these virtues he had preached the Gospel of Christ like one
that was indeed a messenger of God.

Chapter XIII

OF THE SACRED STIGMATA

1. It was the custom of that angelic
man, Francis, never to be slothful in good, but rather, like the
heavenly spirits on Jacob’s ladder, to be ever ascending toward
God, or stooping toward his neighbour. For he had learnt so wisely to
apportion the time granted unto him for merit that one part thereof
he would spend in labouring for the profit of his neighbours, the
other he would devote unto the peaceful ecstasies of contemplation.
Wherefore, when according unto the demands of time and place he had
stooped to secure the salvation of others, he would leave behind the
disturbances of throngs, and seek a hidden solitude and a place for
silence, wherein, giving himself up more freely unto the Lord, he
might brush off any dust that was clinging unto him from his converse
with men. Accordingly, two years before he yielded his spirit unto
heaven, the divine counsel leading him, he was brought after many and
varied toils unto an high mountain apart, that is called Mount
Alverna. When, according unto his wont he began to keep a Lent there,
fasting, in honour of Saint Michael Archangel, he was filled unto
overflowing, and as never before, with the sweetness o£
heavenly contemplation, and was kindled with a yet more burning flame
of heavenly longings, and began to feel the gifts of the divine
bestowal heaped upon him. He was borne into the heights, not like a
curious examiner of the divine majesty that is weighed down by the
glory thereof, but even as a faithful and wise servant, searching out
the will of God, unto Whom it was ever his fervent and chief desire
to conform himself in every way.

2. Thus by the divine oracle it was
instilled into his mind that by opening of the Book of the Gospels it
should be revealed unto him of Christ what would be most pleasing
unto God in him and from him. (Wherefore, having first prayed very
devoutly, he took the holy Book of the Gospels from the altar, and
made it be opened, in the name of the Holy Trinity, by his companion,
a man devoted unto God, and holy. As in the threefold opening of the
Book, the Lord’s Passion was each time discovered, Francis,
full of the Spirit of God, verily understood that, like as he had
imitated Christ in the deeds of his life, so it behoved him to be
made like unto Him in the trials and sufferings of His Passion before
that he should depart from this world. And, albeit by reason of the
great austerity of his past life, and continual sustaining of the
Lord’s Cross, he was now frail in body, he was no whit afeared,
but was the more valorously inspired to endure a martyrdom. For in
him the all-powerful kindling of love of the good Jesu had increased
into coals of fire, which hath a most vehement flame, so that many
waters could not quench his love, so strong it was.

When, therefore, by seraphic
glow of longing he had been uplifted toward God, and by his sweet
compassion had been transformed into the likeness of Him Who of His
exceeding love endured to be crucified,—on a certain morning
about the Feast of the Exaltation of Holy Cross, while he was
praying on the side of the mountain, he beheld a Seraph having six
wings, flaming and resplendent, coming down from the heights of
heaven. When in his flight most swift he had reached the space of
air nigh the man of God, there appeared betwixt the wings the Figure
of a Man crucified, having his hands and feet stretched forth in the
shape of a Cross, and fastened unto a Cross. Two wings were raised
above His head, twain were spread forth to fly, while twain hid His
whole body. Beholding this, Francis was mightily astonied, and joy,
mingled with sorrow, filled his heart. He rejoiced at the gracious
aspect wherewith he saw Christ, under the guise of the Seraph,
regard him, but His crucifixion pierced his soul with a sword of
pitying grief. He marvelled exceedingly at the appearance of a
vision so unfathomable, knowing that the infirmity of the Passion
doth in no wise accord with the immortality of a Seraphic spirit. At
length he understood therefrom, the Lord revealing it unto him, that
this vision had been thus presented unto his gaze by the divine
providence, that the friend of Christ might have foreknowledge that
he was to be wholly transformed into the likeness of Christ
Crucified, not by martyrdom of body, but by enkindling of heart.
Accordingly, as the vision disappeared, it left in his heart a
wondrous glow, but on his flesh also it imprinted a no less wondrous
likeness of its tokens. For forthwith there began to appear in his
hands and feet the marks of the nails, even as he had just beheld
them in that Figure of the Crucified. For his hands and feet seemed
to be pierced through the midst with nails, the heads of the nails
shewing in the palms of the hands, and upper side of the feet, and
their points shewing on the other side; the heads of the nails were
round and black in the hands and feet, while the points were long,
bent, and as it were turned back, being formed, of the flesh itself,
and protruding therefrom. The right side, moreover, was—as if
it had been pierced by a lance—seamed with a ruddy scar,
wherefrom ofttimes welled the sacred blood, staining his habit and
breeches.

4. Now the servant of Christ
perceived that the stigmata thus manifestly imprinted on his flesh
could not be hidden from his intimate friends; nevertheless, fearing
to make public the holy secret of the Lord, he was set in a great
strife of questioning, to wit, whether he should tell that which he
had seen, or should keep it silent. Wherefore he called some of the
Brethren, and, speaking unto them in general terms, set before them
his doubt, and asked their counsel. Then one of the Brethren,
Illuminato by name, and illuminated by grace, perceiving that he had
beheld some marvellous things, inasmuch as that he seemed almost
stricken dumb with amaze, said unto the holy man: “Brother,
thou knowest that at times the divine secrets are shewn unto thee,
not only for thine own sake, but for the sake of others also.
Wherefore, meseemeth thou wouldst have reason to fear lest thou
shouldst be judged guilty of hiding thy talent, didst thou keep
hidden that which thou hast received, which same would be profitable
unto many.” At this speech, the holy man was moved, so that,
albeit at other times he was wont to say “ My secret to me,”
he did then with much fear narrate in order the vision aforesaid,
adding that He who had appeared unto him had said some words the
which, so long as he lived, he would never reveal unto any man.
Verily we must believe that those utterances of that holy Seraph
marvellously appearing on the Cross were so secret that perchance it
was not lawful for a man to utter them.

5. Now after that the true love of
Christ had transformed His lover into the same image, and after that
he had spent forty days in solitude, as he had determined, when the
Feast of Saint Michael Archangel came, this angelic man, Francis,
descended from the mountain, bearing with him the likeness of the
Crucified, engraven, not on tables of stone or of wood, by the
craftsman’s hand, but written on his members of flesh by the
finger of the Living God. And forasmuch as it is good to keep close
the secret of a King, the man that shared this so royal secret did
ever hide those sacred signs as best he might. Howbeit, since it
pertaineth unto God to reveal the great things that He doth for His
glory, the Lord Himself, Who had imprinted those seals upon him in
secret, wrought divers miracles openly by means thereof, that the
hidden and wondrous power of those stigmata might be demonstrated by
the well-known fame of the signs that followed.

6. Thus, in the province of Rieti,
there had prevailed a very grievous plague, the which devoured all
oxen and sheep so cruelly that no succour had been of any avail. But
a certain man that feared God was warned at night by a vision to go
in haste unto an hermitage of the Brethren, and obtain some water
that had washed the hands and feet of the servant of God, Francis,
who at that time was sojourning there, and to sprinkle it over all
the animals. Accordingly, he rose at dawn, and came unto the place,
and, having secretly obtained this water from the companions of the
holy man, he sprinkled therewith the sheep and oxen that were
diseased. Wondrous to relate, so soon as the sprinkling, were it but
a drop, fell upon the sick animals as they lay on the ground, they
recovered their former strength, and got up forthwith, and, as though
they had felt no sickness, hastened unto the pastures! Thus it
befell, through the marvellous virtue of that water that had touched
the sacred wounds, that the whole plague was at once stayed, and the
contagious sickness banished from the flocks and herds.

7. In the neighbourhood of the
aforesaid Mount Alverna, before that the holy man had sojourned
there, a cloud was wont to arise from the mountain, and a fierce
hailstorm to lay waste the fruits of the earth. But after that
blessed vision, to the amazement of the inhabitants, the hail ceased,
that the excellence of that heavenly apparition and the virtue of the
stigmata that were there imprinted might be attested by the very face
of the heavens, made calm beyond its wont.

Moreover, it befell one winter season
that, by reason of his bodily infirmity, and of the roughness of the
roads, he was riding on a poor man’s ass, and was obliged to
pass the night under the edge of an overhanging rock, that he might
by any means escape the inconveniences of the snow and night that had
overtaken them, the which hindered him so that he was not able to
reach the place wherein he was to lodge. And when Francis perceived
that this man was muttering, sighing, and complaining, and was
tossing himself to and fro, like one thinly clad, and unable to sleep
by reason of the bitter cold,—he, kindled with the glow of the
love divine, touched him with his outstretched hand. Marvellous to
relate, so soon as that holy hand that bore the burning of the live
coal of the Seraph touched him, his sense of cold was utterly
banished, and as great a warmth came upon him within and without as
if the flaming breath from the mouth of a furnace had blown upon him.
Strengthened thereby in mind and body, he slept more sweetly until
the morning among the rocks and snow than he had ever done resting in
his own bed, even as he himself did thereafter declare.

Wherefore it is proven by sure tokens
that those sacred seals were imprinted by the might of Him Who doth
by the ministry of Seraphs purify, enlighten, and kindle, seeing that
they brought health out of pestilence by driving it forth, and with
wondrous efficacy bestowed ease and warmth upon men’s bodies,
even as after his death was shewn by yet more clear portents that
shall be related hereafter in their own place.

8. Francis himself, albeit he strove
with great diligence to hide the treasure found in the field, could
nevertheless not so conceal it as that some should not behold the
stigmata in his hands and feet, although he almost always kept his
hands covered, and from that time forth wore sandals on his feet.
For, while he yet lived, many Brethren saw them, who, albeit they
were men worthy of all trust by reason of their especial holiness,
did yet for the removal of all doubt swear a solemn oath, laying
their hands on thrice holy things, that so it was, and that they had
seen it. Moreover, some Cardinals, during the intimate intercourse
that they held with the holy man, beheld them, and these composed
truthful praises of the sacred stigmata, in prose, and verse, and
antiphons, which they published in his honour, giving their witness
alike in word and in writing unto the truth. The Supreme Pontiff,
moreover, the lord Alexander, whenas he was preaching in the presence
of many Brethren, myself among them, declared that he, during the
lifetime of the Saint, had beheld with his own eyes those sacred
stigmata. At the time of his death, more than fifty Brethren beheld
them, as did Clare, that virgin most devoted unto God, with the rest
of her Sisters, and countless seculars, many of whom, as shall be
told in its own place, both kissed them with devout emotion, and
touched them with their hands, to confirm their witness.

Howbeit, the wound in his side he so
heedfully concealed as that during his lifetime none might behold it,
save by stealth. Thus one of the Brethren, who was wont solicitously
to tend him,—having prevailed on him with holy caution to doff
his habit that it might be shaken out,—by looking closely,
beheld the wound, and moreover, by laying three fingers upon it with
an hasty touch learnt the extent thereof alike by sight and by touch.
With a like precaution the Brother that was then his Vicar beheld it.
And a Brother of wondrous simplicity, that was his companion, while
he was rubbing his shoulder-blades by reason of a pain and weakness
that he suffered therein, put his hand within his hood, and by an
accident let it fall on the sacred wound, inflicting great pain on
him. Thenceforward he wore his undergarments so made as that they
reached right unto his armpits, to cover the wound in the side.
Moreover, the Brethren who washed these, or shook out his habit as
occasion demanded, finding them stained with blood, by this manifest
token arrived at an assured knowledge of the sacred wound, whose
appearance, revealed thereafter at his death, they too, in company
with very many others, gazed upon and venerated withal.

9. Up then, most valiant knight of
Christ! Bear the armour of that most invincible Captain, equipped and
adorned wherewith thou shalt overcome all enemies. Bear the standard
of the King Most High, the which to look upon inspireth all the
warriors of the host of God. Bear no less the seal of the Chief
Priest, Christ, whereby thy words and deeds shall be deservedly
received as blameless and authoritative by all men. For from
henceforth, by reason of the marks of the Lord Jesus, which thou dost
bear in thy body, let no man trouble thee, nay rather, let whosoever
is the servant of Christ be constrained unto deepest devotion and
love for thee. For now by these most clear tokens,—proven, not
by the two or three witnesses that be enough to establish a matter,
but by a multitude, over and above what was necessary,—the
witness of God in thee, and the things wrought through thee worthy of
all belief, take from the infidels every pretext or excuse, while
that they strengthen believers in faith, uplift them by confidence of
hope, and kindle them with the fire of charity.

10. Now, verily, is that first vision
fulfilled, which thou sawest, to wit, that thou shouldst become a
captain in the warfare of Christ, and shouldst be accoutred with
heavenly armour, marked with the sign of the Cross. Now that vision
of the Crucified, that, at the outset of thy conversion, pierced thy
soul with a sword of pitying sorrow, yea, and the sound of the Voice
from the Cross, proceeding as though from the exalted throne of
Christ and His hidden place of atonement,—as thou didst declare
in thy holy converse,—are shewn to have been true beyond a
doubt. Now, too, the Cross that, as thou madest progress in thy
conversion, was seen of Brother Silvester marvellously coming forth
from thy mouth,—the swords, too, that the holy Pacifico saw
laid crosswise upon thee, piercing the heart,—and thine
appearance uplifted in the air with arms outstretched after the
manner of a Cross, while the holy Antony was preaching on the title
of the Cross, as that angelic man, Monaldo, beheld;—these all
are verily shewn and proven to have been seen, not in imaginations of
the brain, but by revelation from heaven. Now, finally, that vision
that was vouchsafed thee toward the end of thy life,—to wit,
the exalted likeness of the Seraph, and the lowly Image of Christ
shewn in one,—kindling thee inwardly and marking thee outwardly
as another Angel ascending from the sunrising, having the seal of the
Living God in thee,—giveth a confirmation of faith unto those
visions aforesaid, and likewise receiveth from them a witness unto
its own truth. Lo, by these seven appearances of the Cross of Christ
in thee and about thee, marvellously set forth and shewn in order of
time, thou hast attained, as though by six steps, unto that seventh,
where thou dost make an end, and rest. For the Cross of Christ was at
the outset of thy conversion both set before thee, and taken up by
thee, and thenceforward as thou madest progress in thy conversion, it
was unceasingly sustained by thee throughout thy most holy life, and
was shewn as an ensample unto others with such clearness and
certainty that it demonstrateth that at the end thou didst arrive at
the summit of Gospel perfection; thus none that is truly devout will
reject this shewing-forth of Christ-like wisdom written in thy mortal
dust, none that is a true believer will impeach it, none that is
truly humble will lightly esteem it, seeing that it is verily set
forth of God, and right worthy of all acceptation.

Chapter XIV

OF HIS SUFFERINGS AND DEATH

1. Francis, now crucified with Christ
alike in flesh and in spirit, while glowing with seraphic love toward
God, did also thirst, even as did Christ Crucified, for the
multitudes of them that should be saved. Wherefore, being unable to
walk by reason of the nails protruding from his feet, he caused
himself to be borne round cities and castled villages, emaciated as
he was, that he might incite others to bear the Cross of Christ. And
unto the Brethren also he would say: “Let us begin, Brethren,
to serve our Lord God, for until now we have made but little
progress.” So mightily did he yearn to return unto the first
beginnings of humility that he would serve the lepers as he had done
at the outset, and would recall unto its early ministries his body
that was now broken down by toils. Under Christ’s leadership,
he was minded to do mighty deeds, and, albeit his limbs were waxing
feeble, yet, strong and glowing in spirit, he hoped in this new
contest to vanquish the foe. For there is no room for languor or
sloth where the spur of love ever urgeth on unto greater things. Yet
in him the flesh was so much in agreement with the spirit, and so
ready to obey, as that when the spirit strove to attain unto perfect
holiness, the flesh not only refrained from thwarting it, but did
even hasten to forestall it.

2. Now in order that the merits of
the man of God might be increased,—merits that of a truth do
all find their consummation in endurance,—he began to suffer
from divers ailments so grievously that scarce one of his limbs was
free from pain and sore suffering. At length by divers sicknesses,
prolonged and continuous, he was brought unto such a point that his
flesh was wasted away, and only as it were the skin clave unto his
bones. While he was afflicted by such grievous bodily suffering, he
would call his pangs not punishments, but sisters. And when once he
was harassed more sorely than usual by sharp pains, a certain simple
Brother said unto him: “Brother, pray the Lord that He deal
more gently with thee, for meseemeth that His hand is laid more
heavily on thee than is right.” Hearing this, the holy man
groaned, and cried out, saying: “Did I not know the simple
purity that is in thee, I would from henceforth have shunned thy
company, for that thou hast dared to deem the divine counsels
concerning me meet for blame.” And albeit he was wholly worn
out by the long continuance of his grievous sickness, he cast himself
on the ground, jarring his frail bones in the hard fall. And, kissing
the ground, he cried: “I give Thee thanks, O Lord God, for all
these my pains, and I beseech Thee, my Lord, that, if it please Thee,
Thou wilt add unto them an hundredfold; for this will be most
acceptable unto me if laying sorrow upon me Thou dost not spare,
since the fulfilling of Thy holy will is unto me an overflowing
solace.” Thus He seemed unto the Brethren like another Job,
whose powers of mind increased even as his bodily weakness increased.
But he himself knew long before his death when it should be, and,
when the day of his departure was at hand, said unto the Brethren
that he was about to put off the tabernacle of his body, even as it
had been revealed unto him of Christ.

3. When, therefore, during the two
years after the impression of the sacred stigmata, to wit, in the
twentieth year from his conversion, he had been shaped by many trial
blows of painful sicknesses, like unto a stone meet to be set in the
building of the heavenly Jerusalem, and as it were an hammered work
that under the mallet of manifold trials is brought unto
perfection,—he asked to be borne unto Saint Mary of the Little
Portion, that he might yield up the breath of life there, where he
had received the breath of grace. When he had been brought
thither,—that he might give an ensample of the truth that he
had naught in common with the world,—in that most severe
weakness that followed after all his sickness, he prostrated himself
in fervour of spirit all naked on the naked earth, that in that last
hour, wherein the foe might still rise up against him, he might
wrestle in his nakedness with that naked spirit. As he lay thus on
the ground, his habit of haircloth laid aside, he lifted his face, as
was his wont, toward heaven, and, wholly absorbed in that glory,
covered with his left hand the wound in his right side, that it might
not be seen, and said unto the Brethren: “I have done what was
mine to do, may Christ teach you what is yours.”

4. While the companions of the Saint
were weeping, stricken with keen pangs of pity, one of them, whom the
man of God had said should be his Warden, knowing by divine
inspiration his wish, rose in haste, and taking an habit, with the
cord and breeches, brought it unto the little poor one of Christ,
saying; “These I lend unto thee, as unto a beggar, and do thou
receive them at the bidding of holy obedience.” At this the
holy man rejoiced, and exulted in gladness of heart, for that he saw
that he had kept faith with the Lady Poverty even unto the end, and
raising his hands unto heaven, he glorified his Christ for that,
freed from all burdens, he was going unhindered unto Him. For all
this he had done in his zeal for poverty, being minded to possess not
even an habit, unless it were lent him by another. He was verily
minded in all things to be made like unto Christ Crucified, Who had
hung on the Cross in poverty, and grief, and nakedness. Wherefore, as
at the outset of his conversion he had stood naked before the Bishop,
so in the ending of his life he was minded to quit the world naked.
He charged the Brethren that stood around him, on their loving
obedience, that when they saw that he was dead, they should leave him
lying naked on the ground for so long time as a man would take
leisurely to compass the distance of a thousand paces. O truly
Christ-like man, who strove alike in life to imitate the life of
Christ; in dying, His dying; in death, His death, by a perfect
likeness, and was found worthy to be adorned with an outward likeness
unto Him!

5. Then, as the hour of his departure
was fast approaching, he made all the Brethren that were in the place
be called unto him and, consoling them for his death with words of
comfort, exhorted them with fatherly tenderness unto the love of God.
He spake long of observing patience, and poverty, and fidelity unto
the Holy Roman Church, placing the Holy Gospel before all other
ordinances. Then as all the Brethren sat around him, he stretched his
hands over them, crossing his arms in the likeness of the Cross, for
that he did ever love that sign, and he blessed all the Brethren,
present and absent alike, in the might and in the Name of the
Crucified. He added moreover: “Be strong, all ye my sons, in
the fear of the Lord, and abide therein for ever. And, since
temptation will come, and trials draw nigh, blessed are they who
shall continue in the works that they have begun. I for my part make
haste to go unto God, unto Whose grace I commend you all.” When
he had made an end of gentle exhortations after this wise, this man
most beloved of God asked them to bring him the book of the Gospels,
and to read unto him from the Gospel according unto John, beginning
at that place: “Before the feast of the Passover.” Then
he himself, as best he could, brake forth into the words of that
Psalm: “I cried unto the Lord with my voice, with my voice unto
the Lord did I make my supplication,” and went through even
unto the end, saying: “The righteous shall compass me about,
for Thou shalt deal bountifully with me.”

6. At length, when all the mysteries
had been fulfilled in him, and his most holy spirit was freed from
the flesh, and absorbed into the boundless depths of the divine
glory, the blessed man fell on sleep in the Lord. One of his Brethren
and disciples saw that blessed soul, under the likeness of a star
exceeding bright, borne on a dazzling cloudlet over many waters,
mounting in a straight course unto heaven, as though it were radiant
with the dazzling whiteness of his exalted sanctity, and filled with
the riches of divine wisdom and grace alike, by the which the holy
man was found worthy to enter the abode of light and peace, where
with Christ he resteth for evermore. Moreover, a Brother named
Augustine, who was then Minister of the Brethren in Terra di Lavoro,
an holy and upright man, having come unto his last hour, and some
time previously having lost the power of speech, in the hearing of
them that stood by did on a sudden cry out and say: “Tarry for
me. Father, tarry for me, lo, even now I am coming with thee!”
When the Brethren asked and marvelled much unto whom he thus boldly
spake, he made answer: “Did ye not see our Father, Francis, who
goeth unto heaven”? And forthwith his holy soul, departing from
the body, followed the most holy Father.

The Bishop of Assisi at that time had
gone on pilgrimage unto the Oratory of Saint Michael on Monte
Gargano, and unto him the Blessed Francis, appearing on the night of
his departure, said: “Behold, I leave the world and go unto
heaven.” The Bishop, then, rising at dawn, related unto his
companions that which he had seen, and returned unto Assisi; there,
when he had made diligent enquiry, he learnt of a certainty that in
that hour whereof the vision had notified him, the blessed Father had
departed from this world.

At the hour of the passing of the
holy man, the larks—birds that love the light, and dread the
shades of twilight—flocked in great numbers unto the roof of
the house, albeit the shades of night were then falling, and,
wheeling round it for a long while with songs even gladder than their
wont, offered their witness, alike gracious and manifest, unto the
glory of the Saint, who had been wont to call them unto the divine
praises.

Chapter XV

OF HIS CANONISATION, AND THE TRANSLATION OF
HIS BODY

1. Francis, then, the servant and
friend of the Most High, the founder and leader of the Order of
Brothers Minor, the professor of poverty, the pattern of penitence,
the herald of truth, the mirror of holiness, and ensample of all
Gospel perfection,—the heavenly grace preventing him,—did
make progress in ordered course from the depths unto the heights.
This wondrous man, in poverty exceeding rich, in humility exalted, in
mortification full of life, in simplicity wise, and in every grace of
character noteworthy, whom in life the Lord had marvellously made
illustrious, was made of Him in death incomparably more illustrious.
For as that blessed man departed from this world, his holy spirit
entered the eternal mansions and was made glorious by a full draught
of the fountain of life, while he left set forth in his body certain
tokens that were to be his glory, so that his most undefiled flesh,
that had been crucified with its lusts, and had become a new
creature, did both set forth the image of Christ’s Passion by
its unexampled distinction, and prefigure the semblance of the
Resurrection by the newness of the miracle.

2. For in those blessed limbs were
seen the nails marvellously fashioned out of his flesh by the divine
might, and so implanted in that flesh that if they were pressed on
one side they at once sprang back unto the other, like nerves that be
joined together and taut. Moreover, there was manifestly seen in his
body the scar of the wound in the side, nor inflicted nor wrought by
man, but like unto the wounded side of the Saviour, the which, in Our
Redeemer Himself, afforded us the holy mystery of man’s
redemption and regeneration. The appearance of the nails was black
like iron, but the wound in the side was ruddy, and by a contraction
of the flesh shaped as it were into a circle, in appearance like a
rose most fair. The rest of his flesh,—which aforetime both
from his infirmities and from natural complexion had tended toward
swarthiness,—now shone with a dazzling whiteness, and was a
type of the beauty of its second state and royal apparel.

3. His limbs were so soft and pliant
when touched as that they seemed to have returned unto the softness
of childhood, and were seen to be adorned by divers clear tokens of
innocence. Since, then, the nails shewed forth black on this most
dazzlingly white flesh, and the wound in the side shewed ruddy as a
rosy flower in Spring, it is no wonder that so fair and marvellous a
contrast filled the beholders with gladness and marvelling. His sons
were weeping for the loss of so loveworthy a Father, and yet they
were filled with no small joy as they kissed the seals of the Most
High King in him. The newness of the miracle changed mourning into
exultation, and turned the examination of the reason into dumb
amazement. Verily, this sight so unparalleled and so noteworthy was,
unto all that beheld it, alike a confirmation of faith and an
incitement unto love, while unto them that heard thereof it was a
subject for marvelling, and the kindling of a yearning to behold it
withal.

4. When the departure of the blessed
Father became known, and the report of the miracle was spread abroad,
the folk gathered in haste unto the spot, that with their bodily eyes
they might behold that which should dispel all doubt from their
reasons, and should add rejoicing unto their love. Accordingly, very
many of the citizens of Assist were admitted to behold and to kiss
those sacred stigmata. Now one among them, a learned and wise knight,
Jerome by name, a man illustrious and renowned, having had doubts
concerning these sacred tokens, and having been an unbeliever like
Thomas,—did very eagerly and boldly, in the presence of the
Brethren and of the other citizens, move the nails, and touch with
his own hands the hands, feet, and side of the Saint; and thus it
befell that, while touching those authentic marks of the wounds of
Christ, he cut away every wound of unbelief from his own heart and
the hearts of all. Wherefore he became thereafter a constant witness,
among others, unto this truth that he had learnt with such certainty,
and confirmed it by an oath, laying his hands on thrice-holy things.

5. Now his Brethren and sons, that
had been summoned for the passing of their Father, together with the
entire assembly of the folk, devoted that night wherein Christ’s
dear Confessor had departed, unto divine praises, in such wise that
they seemed no mourners for the dead, but a watch of Angels. When
morning came, the crowds that had come together, carrying branches of
trees and many wax lights, brought the holy body unto the city of
Assisi, with hymns and chants. Moreover, they passed by the church of
Saint Damian, where at that time that noble virgin Clare, now
glorified in heaven, abode cloistered with her Sisters; and there for
a space they stayed, and set down the holy body, adorned with those
heavenly pearls, that it might be seen and embraced by those holy
virgins. Coming at length with rejoicing unto the city, they laid the
precious treasure that they were bearing in the church of Saint
George, with all reverence. In that very place, Francis as a little
boy had learned his letters, and there it was that he first preached
in after days, and there, finally, he found his first resting-place.

6. Now the holy Father departed from
the shipwreck of this world in the year 1226 of the Lord’s
Incarnation, on the fourth day of October, at late even of a
Saturday, and on the Sunday he was buried.

At once the holy man began to shine
in the glory of many and great miracles, the light of the divine
countenance being uplifted upon him, so that the loftiness of his
holiness that during his life, had been conspicuous in the world for
the ruling of men’s lives through its ensample of perfect
uprightness, was, now that he himself was reigning with Christ,
approved from heaven by miracles of divine power, so that belief
might be thoroughly confirmed. And since in divers parts of the world
the glorious marvels wrought by him, and the great blessings won
through him, were kindling many unto devotion unto Christ, and
inciting them unto veneration for the Saint himself,—so that
men’s tongues, as well as these deeds, were loud in his
praise,—it came unto the ears of the Supreme Pontiff, the lord
Gregory the Ninth, what great things God was working through His
servant Francis.

7. Of a truth, that Shepherd of the
Church had been fully assured of his marvellous holiness, not alone
by hearing of the miracles wrought after his death, but also by
proofs during his life of what he had seen with his own eyes, and
handled with his own hands, and he had put perfect faith therein; so
that, by reason of this, he now in no wise doubted but that Francis
was glorified of the Lord in heaven. Wherefore, that he might act in
accord with Christ, Whose Vicar he was, he was minded, with devout
consideration, to make the Saint famous on earth, as one most worthy
of all reverence. Moreover, to gain the fullest assurance throughout
the whole world for the glorification of that most holy man, he
caused the miracles that were known of him to be written and approved
by trusty witnesses, and then examined by those of the Cardinals that
seemed least favourable unto the business. When they had been
diligently discussed and approved of all, with the unanimous counsel
and consent of his Brethren, and of all the Prelates that were then
in the Curia, he decreed that he should be canonised. Accordingly, he
came in person unto the city of Assisi in the year of the Lord’s
Incarnation 1228, on the sixteenth day of July, a Sunday, and with
rites exceeding solemn, that would take long to narrate, he enrolled
the blessed Father in the list of the Saints.

8. Now in the year of the Lord 1230,
the / Brethren assembled for a Chapter-General that was held at
Assisi, and his body consecrated unto the Lord was translated unto
the Church built in his honour on the twenty-fifth day of May. While
that holy treasure, signed with the seal of the Most High King, was
being removed. He Whose image it set forth deigned to work many
miracles, that by the fragrance of its healing power the hearts of
the faithful might be drawn to follow after Christ. Verily, it was
right fitting that the blessed bones of him, whom God had made
well-pleasing unto Him and beloved of Him in life, and whom He had
carried unto heaven by the grace of contemplation, like Enoch, and
had borne aloft into the sky in a fiery chariot, by his fervour of
love, like Elias,—being now among the heavenly Spring flowers
of the everlasting planting, should flourish out of their place with
a marvellous fragrance.

Furthermore, even as that
blessed man in life had been distinguished by marvellous tokens of
virtue, so too from the day of his departure unto this present time,
he doth shine throughout the divers parts of the world in the light
of famed marvels and miracles, the divine power glorifying him. For
the blind and the deaf, the dumb and the lame, the dropsical and the
paralysed, the possessed and the leper, the shipwrecked and the
captive, have found succour by his merits, and in all diseases,
needs, and perils he hath been an aid. But in that many dead have
been miraculously raised through him, there is made manifest unto
the faithful the glorious working of the power of the Most High,
exalting His Saint, and His is the honour and glory throughout the
endless ages of eternity. Amen.

HERE ENDETH THE LIFE OF THE BLESSED
FRANCIS

CERTAIN MIRACLES WROUGHT AFTER HIS DEATH

I.
First, concerning the powers of the sacred Stigmata.

1. To the honour and glory of
Almighty God.

Forasmuch as I am about to narrate
certain well-proven miracles wrought by the Blessed Francis after
that he had been glorified in heaven, I deemed that it behoved me to
make a beginning from that chief miracle wherein the might of the
Cross of Jesus is set forth and its glory renewed. Francis, then,
being made a new man, was distinguished by a new and astounding
miracle, and was seen to be marked but by an unparalleled honour that
had been granted unto no past age; to wit, he was adorned with the
sacred stigmata, and conformed, in the body of this death, unto the
Body of the Crucified. Whatsoever a mortal tongue might say
concerning this, would fall short of its due praise. Of a truth, all
the thoughts of the man of God, his public efforts and private
meditations, were concerned with the Cross of the Lord; wherefore,
that the sign of the Cross, the which from the beginning of his
conversion had been imprinted on his heart, might outwardly be seen
on his body, he sheltered himself within that Cross, taking unto him
a penitent’s habit made in fashion like a Cross. Thus, even as
his mind within had put on the Crucified Lord, so his body too put on
the armour of the Cross, that in that same sign whereby God had
routed the powers of the air, the Lord’s own army might wage
His warfare. But from the very beginning of the time wherein he
entered upon the warfare for the Crucified, divers mystic tokens of
the Cross shone round about him, as becometh clearly evident unto one
considering the story of his life, and how, by the sevenfold
appearing of the Lord’s Cross, he was wholly transformed into
the likeness of the Crucified, in thoughts, emotions, and deeds
alike, by his rapturous love of Him. Wherefore the mercy of the Most
High King, that doth stoop, beyond all mortal conception, unto such
as love Him, meetly imprinted upon him the banner of His Cross, to
bear in his body withal, so that he who had been endowed with such
wondrous love of the Cross should be made a marvel by a wondrous
token of honour of that Cross.

2. To confirm the unanswerable truth
of this astounding miracle, there are enlisted not only the evidence
of them that beheld and touched them—evidence in all ways
worthy of belief—but also sundry marvellous visions and powers
that after his death shone brightly forth to dispel all clouds from
men’s minds. For ensample, the lord Pope Gregory the Ninth, of
blessed memory—of whom the holy man had foretold in prophecy
that he should be exalted unto the Apostolic See—before that he
enrolled in the catalogue of Saints this standard-bearer of the
Cross, felt some particles of doubt in his mind concerning the wound
in the side. Then one night,—as that holy Bishop would relate
with tears,—the Blessed Francis appeared unto him in a dream,
shewing a stem countenance, and, blaming him for the doubts of his
heart, raised his right arm, revealed the wound, and demanded of him
a phial to receive the blood that welled up and flowed from his side.
In his dream, the Supreme Pontiff proffered him the phial that he
sought, and it appeared to be filled, even unto the brim, with the
blood from his side. Thenceforward he began to be such a devout
adherent of that holy miracle, and such a jealous and ardent champion
thereof, as that he might in no wise brook that any man should dare,
with arrogant attacks, to dim the glory of those radiant tokens, but
would chastise such an one with stern reproofs.

3. A certain Brother Minor of the
Order, whose ministry was preaching, and who had much influence by
reason c£ his especial uprightness and good repute, had been
fully convinced of the truth of the sacred stigmata. Howbeit, when
with his finite judgement he sought within him a reason for this
miracle, he began to be harassed by some scruples and doubts. When
therefore for several days he had endured this conflict, his carnal
nature gaining power, as he slept one night Saint Francis appeared
unto him, his feet stained with mire, his mien humbly severe and
patiently angered. “Now what,” saith he, “be these
struggles and wavering opinions in thee? What be these base doubts?
Behold my hands and my feet.” Then he beheld the pierced hands,
but saw not the stigmata on the feet that were covered with mire.
“Wipe off,” saith he, “the mire from my feet, and
recognise the place of the nails.” Then that other devoutly
took hold on them, and seemed unto himself to wipe off the mire and
to touch with his hands the places where the nails were. Forthwith,
on waking up, he shed abundant tears, and washed away, by his floods
of tears and by a public confession withal, those his former feelings
that had been, as it were, all stained with mire. .

4. There was in the city of Rome a
certain matron, noble alike for the excellence of her life and the
distinction of her family, who had chosen Saint Francis for her
patron, and had a picture of him painted in her secret chamber,
wherein she was wont to pray unto the Father Which is in secret. Now
on a certain day when she had devoted herself unto prayer, she was
meditating upon the picture of the Saint and saw that it had not
those sacred marks of the stigmata, whereupon she began to grieve and
to wonder much. But it was no wonder that what the painter had left
out should not be in the picture. Yet for many days she sought
anxiously in her mind what might be the cause of this omission; when,
lo, one day, on a sudden, there appeared in the picture those
marvellous tokens, in fashion as they are wont to be painted in other
pictures of the Saint. Trembling, she forthwith summoned her
daughter, that was devoted unto God, asking her whether that picture
had not hitherto been without the stigmata. She declared it was so,
and affirmed on oath that aforetime it had shewn no stigmata, whereas
now the stigmata might be seen upon it. Yet, forasmuch as men’s
minds do ofttimes induce them to fall, and turn the truth into a
matter for doubting, some evil hesitation entered once again the
heart of the lady, whether perchance that picture had not been marked
with those tokens from the first. But the power of God added yet a
second miracle that the first might not be despised. For those marks
did at once vanish, and the picture remained despoiled of the special
honours, so that the earlier miracle was proven by that which
followed it.

5. Moreover at Lerida, in Catalonia,
it befell that a certain man, named John, who was devoted unto the
Blessed Francis, was one evening passing along a certain street,
wherein men were lying in ambush to slay, not him indeed, for they
bore him no enmity,—but a certain other who was like him to
look upon and who was at the time in his company. One of them rushed
out from the ambush, and, thinking him to be his foe, struck at him
again and again, with such deadly blows as that there was no hope
left for his recovery. For the first stroke inflicted upon him was
within a little of cutting one shoulder clean off and the arm
therewith, while another blow made such a gash under die breast as
that the rush of air therefrom put out about six candles that were
joined together. Accordingly, in the judgement of the physicians his
cure was hopeless, all the more so as the wounds began to putrify,
and gave forth such an intolerable odour as that even his wife was
stricken with loathing, and he now seemed beyond the aid of any
mortal remedies. Then he turned him to implore the succour of the
Blessed Father Francis with utmost devoutness, yea, he had called
upon him with all faith, and on the Blessed Virgin likewise even
while the wounds were being dealt. And lo! as the ill-fated man lay
abandoned on his couch of affliction, and, sleepless, oft called upon
the name of Francis, and cried it aloud repeatedly, one stood by him
in the habit of a Brother Minor, having entered,—so it seemed
unto him,—by the window. And he, calling him by name, said:
“Because thou hast had faith in me, lo! the Lord will deliver
thee.” When the sick man asked of him who he was, he made
answer that he was Francis, and, forthwith, approaching him, undid
the bandages of his wounds, and, as it seemed, anointed them all with
ointment. Then forthwith, as the sick man felt the gentle touch of
those holy hands, mighty to heal by the power of the stigmata of the
Saviour, the corruption was driven out, the flesh was restored, and
the wounds closed, and he himself was restored unto his former
perfect soundness. This done, the Blessed Father departed. Then the
wounded .man, feeling himself healed, and gladly bursting forth into
utterance of God’s praises and the praises of the Blessed
Francis, called his wife. She ran thither with all speed, and, seeing
him stand upright whom she had thought to have buried on the next
day, was mightily astonied and adread, and made the whole place echo
with her cries. Her household and friends gathered round in haste,
and strove to lay her husband back on the bed, deeming him
distraught, but he for his part strove with them, and declared and
shewed that he was healed; whereupon they were dumb with
astonishment, and were all as it were carried out of their wits,
thinking that what they beheld was a phantom of the imagination. For
he whom but a little before they had beheld mangled with the
cruellest wounds, and already all wasted away, they now saw in full
health, and jubilant. And he who had been made whole said unto them:
“Be not afeared, nor deem that which ye see to be an empty
phantom, for Saint Francis hath but even now departed from this
place, and by the touch of his holy hands he made me perfectly sound
from all my wounds.” As the fame of this miracle increased, the
whole folk hastened unto the place, and beholding in such an evident
portent the power of the stigmata of the Blessed Francis, were filled
alike with amazement and with rejoicing, and exalted the
standard-bearer of Christ with great proclamations of his praises. In
sooth, it was meet that the Blessed Father, then dead in the flesh
but living with Christ, should by the wondrous apparition of his
bodily form and by the gentle touch of his holy hands grant health
unto a man. Mortally wounded, seeing that he had borne in his flesh
the stigmata of Him Who in His mercy died, and miraculously rose
again, that He might heal by the power of His stripes the human race
that had been wounded and left half dead.

6. In Potenza, a city of Apulia,
there was a certain cleric, Roger by name, an honour-worthy man, and
a Canon of the Cathedral Church. He had been sore troubled by an
infirmity, and on a day went into a church to pray; now there was
therein a picture of the Blessed Francis, shewing the glorious
stigmata, and he began to doubt concerning that exalted miracle,
deeming it a thing unheard-of and impossible. Now on a sudden, as
with impaired judgement he was inwardly revolving these idle
thoughts, he felt himself forcibly stricken in the palm of his left
hand under his glove, and heard, a whizzing sound, as when a dart is
hurled from a mangonel, and at once, alike wounded by the blow and
astonied at the sound, he drew his glove from off his hand, that he
might see with his eyes that which he had already perceived by touch
and sound. And, albeit there had been afore no wound in his palm, he
beheld in the middle of the palm a wound like unto that inflicted by
the stroke of an arrow, wherefrom there proceeded such burning heat
as that he seemed like to faint by reason thereof. Wondrous to
relate, there was no trace of injury to be seen on his glove, so that
the penalty of the hidden wound inflicted upon him corresponded unto
the hidden wound in his heart. Then for the space of two days he
cried aloud and groaned, pricked by intensest pain, and drew off the
veil from his heart’s doubts, for all to see. And he declared
and solemnly sware that he truly believed that Saint Francis had
received the sacred stigmata, asserting that all the vain imaginings
of doubt had left him. And, as a suppliant, he prayed the Saint of
God by the sacred stigmata to succour him, and enriched his abundant
heartfelt prayers with abundant floods of tears. Then befell a sure
miracle. As he laid aside his unbelief, the healing of his mind was
followed by the healing of his body. All his pain was soothed, the
burning was cooled, and no trace of the wound remained, and thus it
befell that the hidden sickness of the mind was, by the providence of
the divine mercy, healed through the evident burning of the flesh,
and, as the mind was healed, the flesh itself was healed together
with it. The man became humble, devoted unto God, and bound by ties
of constant intimacy unto the Saint and the Order of the Brethren.
The solemn miracle of this affair was attested on oath, and the
knowledge thereof was handed down unto us in letters confirmed by the
authority of the Bishop’s seal.

Accordingly, there is no room for
doubt concerning the sacred stigmata, nor in this matter let any
man’s eye be evil because God is good, as though the bestowal
of such a gift were not in accord with His everlasting goodness. For
if, by that seraphic love, many members clave unto the Head, that is,
Christ,—so that in the warfare, clad in like armour, they were
found worthy, and in the kingdom were exalted unto a like glory,—none
that is of sound mind will deny that this pertaineth unto the glory
of Christ, and unto that alone.

II.
Of the dead that were raised

1. In the town of Monte Marano, near
Benevento, a certain woman that had an especial devotion unto Saint
Francis went the way of all flesh. Now, when the clergy had come
together at night to perform the funeral rites, and vigils, and to
chant the Psalms, on a sudden, in the sight-of all, that woman rose
up upon the bier, and called one of the priests that stood by, who
was her confessor, saying: “I am fain to confess, Father; hear
my sin. I, when dead, was delivered over to be straitly imprisoned,
for that I had never made confession of the sin that I will now
disclose unto thee. But, (saith she), by the prayers offered for me
by Saint Francis, whom, while I lived, I served with a devout mind,
it hath now been vouchsafed me to return unto the body, to the end
that, having revealed that sin, I may merit everlasting life. And lo!
yourselves shall see how that, after I have disclosed the same, I
shall hasten unto the promised rest.” Trembling, then, she
confessed unto the trembling priest, and, after receiving absolution,
laid herself quietly down on the bier, and in blessed wise fell on
sleep in the Lord.

2. In the town of Pamarco, that is
set among the mountains of Apulia, a father and mother had one only
daughter, of tender age, and tenderly beloved beyond all else. And
she was brought unto death by a grievous sickness, and her parents,
having no hope of another child to take her place, deemed themselves
as dead when she died. Their kinsfolk and friends gathered together
for this right piteous burial, but the ill-fated mother lay filled
with woe unspeakable, and wrapt in her supreme sorrow, so that she
perceived no whit of aught that befell. Meanwhile Saint Francis,
accompanied by but one other, appeared, and deigned to visit the
desolate woman, whom he knew had been devoted unto him, and addressed
her with kindly words: “Weep not,” saith he, “for
the light of thy lamp, whose quenching thou bewailest, shall be
restored unto thee by my prayers.” Forthwith the woman arose,
and, revealing unto all that which the Saint had said unto her, would
not suffer the dead, body to be borne forth; but, calling on the name
of Saint Francis with great faith, and laying hold on her dead
daughter, she raised her up, alive and sound, while all looked on and
marvelled.

3. The Brethren at Nocera once begged
the loan of a certain cart, whereof they stood somewhat in need, from
a man named Peter, but he, after the manner of a fool, answered them
with abuse instead of with the help they sought, and in place of the
alms craved in honour of Saint Francis, blasphemed his name. At once,
the man repented him of his foolishness, for the fear of God came
upon him, lest, perchance the vengeance of the Lord might follow,
even as it did speedily follow. For forthwith his firstborn son fell
sick, and, after a short space, gave up the ghost. The unhappy father
rolled on the ground, and called without ceasing on Francis, the
Saint of God, crying with tears: “It is I who sinned, it is I
who spake in evil wise, thou oughtest to scourge me in mine own
person. O Saint, restore unto me, that am now penitent, that which
thou didst take from me when I wickedly blasphemed. I give myself
unto thee, I offer myself for ever unto thy service, for I will ever
offer unto Christ a devout sacrifice of praise for the honour of thy
name.” O marvel! At these words, the boy arose, and, forbidding
his mourning, declared that as he died, and had left the body, by the
Blessed Francis he had been brought back and restored.

4. A certain notary in the city of
Rome had a little son scarce seven years old, who once, when his
mother was going unto the church of Saint Mark, was fain, as children
be, to go with her; when he was bidden by his mother to tarry at
home, he threw himself from a window of the palace, and, his bones
broken by the final concussion, breathed his last on the spot. His
mother, who had not yet gone far, at the sound of a fall feared it
might be that of her child, and returned with all speed; then, when
she found her son thus suddenly taken from her by this pitiable
accident, she forthwith began to lay vengeful hands upon herself, and
with woeful cries roused the whole neighbourhood to mourn with her.
Then a certain Brother, named Ralph, of the Order of Minors, who had
come thither to preach, drew nigh the child and, full of faith, said
unto the father: “Dost thou believe that Francis, the Saint of
God, can avail to raise up thy son from the dead, by the love that he
ever had for Christ Who was crucified to restore life unto men?”
When he made answer that he firmly believed and faithfully confessed
it, and would be for evermore a servant of the Saint if by his merits
he might be found meet to receive from God so great a benefit,—that
Brother prostrated himself in prayer, together with the Brother that
was his companion, stirring up the rest that were present unto
prayer. This done, the boy began to gape a little and, opening his
eyes and stretching his arms, raised himself, and at once, in the
presence of all, walked, whole and sound, restored by the wondrous
might of the Saint unto life and health at the same time.

In the city of Capua, while a
boy was playing with many others, on the bank of the river Voltorno,
he heedlessly fell into deep water, and the rushing river swiftly
engulfed him, and buried him, dead, beneath its sand. At the shouts
of the other boys, who had been playing with him nigh the river, a
great crowd of people gathered together there. The whole multitude
invoked, with devout supplication, the merits of the Blessed
Francis, that he would behold the faith of his parents that had a
devotion for him, and would deign to snatch their offspring from the
peril of death; then lo! a certain man that had been standing afar
off, hearing their shouts, came up, and he was a swimmer. After a
long search, at length, calling upon the help of the Blessed
Francis, he found the place wherein the river slime had formed as it
were a tomb for the child’s body, the which he dug out and
drew therefrom, and, to his sorrow, saw that he was dead. But the
folk that stood round, albeit they saw the child was dead, did
nevertheless, weeping and crying aloud, exclaim: “O Saint
Francis, restore the boy unto his father!” Yea, even some Jews
that had come up, moved by natural compassion, cried: “O Saint
Francis, restore the boy unto his father!” On a sudden, the
boy, to the wonder and delight of all, rose up unscathed, and begged
and implored that he might be taken unto the Church of the Blessed
Francis, that he might devoutly pay his thanks unto him by whose
might he knew that he had been miraculously raised up.

6. In the city of Sessa, in the
district that is called “At the Columns,” a house
suddenly fell, and buried a youth, killing him on the spot. Men and
women ran together from all sides, agitated by the sound of the fall;
they cleared away from one place and another the beams and stones,
and brought unto his ill-fated mother her dead son. Then she, choked
with bitterest sobs, cried, as best she might, in piteous tones: “O
Saint Francis, Saint Francis, restore unto me my son!” And not
she only, but all that were present, besought the protection of the
blessed Father. Yet, as there was neither voice nor sense in the
body, they laid it upon a bier, intending to bury it on the morrow.
Howbeit, the mother had confidence in the Lord by the merits of His
Saint, and made a vow that she would cover the altar of the Blessed
Francis with a new linen cloth, if he would recall her son to life
for her. And lo! about midnight the youth began to gape, his members
waxed warm, and he rose up alive and well, and brake forth into
praises. Yea more, he incited the clergy who had assembled together,
and the whole folk, to pay lauds and thanks unto God and unto the
Blessed Francis, with glad minds.

7. A certain youth, named Gerlandino,
a native of Ragusa, went forth in the vintage season unto the
vineyards, and placed himself in the wine vat under the wine-press,
to fill his skin bottles. On a sudden, some immense stones,—the
wooden supports collapsing,—crashed upon his head with a deadly
blow. At once his father hastened unto his son, and, in his despair,
succoured him not as he lay encumbered, but left him under the load
even as it had fallen upon him. The vinedressers ran together right
speedily as they heard the woeful utterance of his loud cries, and,
like the father of the boy, were filled with great sorrow, and drew
forth the youth, already dead, from the ruin. But his father, falling
at the feet of Jesus, humbly prayed that, by the merits of Saint
Francis, whose feast-day was then at hand, He would deign to restore
unto him his only son. He continued to sigh forth prayers, and to vow
to perform many pious ministries, and promised to visit the tomb of
the holy man, together with his son, if he were raised from the dead.
Then a sure miracle befell. For forthwith the boy, whose whole body
had been crushed, was restored unto life and sound health, and stood
up rejoicing before them all, reproving them that mourned, and
declaring that by the intercession of Saint Francis he had been
restored unto life.

8. In Germany, he raised up another
dead man, concerning whom the lord Pope Gregory,—at the time of
the translation of the Saint’s body,—by Apostolic letters
assured and gladdened all the Brethren, that had gathered together
for the translation and the Chapter. The manner of that miracle I
have not related, being ignorant thereof and deeming the Papal
attestation to be better than the record of all other assertions.

III.
Of them that he delivered from the peril of death

1. In the outskirts of Rome, there
was a nobleman named Rudolph, whose wife was devoted unto God and oft
received as her guests the Brothers Minor, alike from the virtue of
hospitality, and from her veneration and love for the Blessed
Francis. One night, the warder of the castle, who slept on the
topmost tower, was lying upon an heap of wood that had been placed on
the very edge of the wall, and, their fastenings becoming undone,
fell on to the palace roof, and thence on to the ground. At the sound
of the fall, the whole household was aroused, and, when they heard of
the warder’s fall, the lord and lady of the castle hastened
unto the spot, with the Brethren. He, indeed, who had fallen from the
height, was wrapt in so deep a sleep as that he was awakened neither
by the continued falling of the beams, nor by the tumult of the
household that ran together with shouts. At last he was roused by
their hands dragging and pushing him, whereupon he began to complain
that they had cut him off from a sweet repose, declaring that he had
been sleeping sweetly in the arms of the Blessed Francis. When he had
been instructed of others concerning his own fall, and saw himself on
the ground, whereas he had lain on the topmost tower, he was
astounded that that had befallen him which he had no whit perceived,
and promised, in the presence of all, that he would become a penitent
by reason of his reverence for God and for the Blessed Francis.

2. In the town of Pofi, that is
situated in Campania, a certain priest named Thomas approached the
mill of the church that he might repair it. But as he walked
heedlessly along the bank of the canal, where a deep whirlpool was
flowing with a great inrush of water, he fell suddenly, and was
entangled in the nail-studded wheel, whose motion turned the mill. He
lay thus encumbered with the wood, and the rush of drowning the
waters fell on his face, as he was prostrate, so that he could not
cry aloud, howbeit, in his heart, he piteously called upon Saint
Francis. Thus for a long space he lay there, and his companions,
having now utterly despaired of his life, turned the mill forcibly in
the opposite direction, and the priest, thus cast forth, was hurled
about, gasping, in the flood of water. And lo! a certain Brother
Minor, clad in a white tunic and girt with a rope, with great
gentleness took him by the arm, and drew him forth from the river,
saying: “I am Francis, upon whom thou hast called.” Then
he, thus delivered, was greatly astonied, and would fain have kissed
his footprints, and ran hither and thither in his anxiety, enquiring
of his companions: “ Where is he? Whither hath the Saint
departed? Which way took he?” But they, trembling, fell
prostrate on the ground, exalting the glorious marvels of the great
God, and the virtues and merits of His humble servant.

3. Certain youths of Borgo di Celano
went forth into some fields to cut hay; now in these fields there was
hidden an ancient well, whose mouth was overshadowed by green
grasses, and it held water to a depth of about four paces. As the
youths separated, and went singly about the meadow, one of them fell
by accident into the well. The deep pit swallowed his body, but his
spirit and mind rose on high to seek the intercession of the Blessed
Francis, and, even as he fell, he cried with faith and trust: “Saint
Francis, aid me!’’ The others went hither and thither, as
the lad was not to be found, seeking him with shouts, and tears, and
searching all round. Discovering at length that he had fallen into
the well, they returned in haste unto Borgo, with lamentations, to
tell what had befallen and to seek for help. But as they returned,
bringing with them a great crowd of men, one of whom they let down by
a rope into the well, they beheld the lad sitting on the surface of
the water, having suffered no injury whatsoever. When he had been
drawn forth from the well, the youth said unto all that stood by: “As
I fell of a sudden, I invoked the protection of the Blessed Francis,
and he at once, even as I fell, stood by me in bodily presence, and,
stretching out his hand, gently laid hold on me, nor ever left me
until, you also aiding, he drew me forth from the well.”

4. In the church of the Blessed
Francis, at Assisi, the lord Bishop of Ostia,—he that was
afterward the Chief Pontiff, Alexander,—was preaching in the
presence of the Roman Curia, when an heavy and great stone, that had
been left through negligence over the lofty stone pulpit, was pushed
out of place by excessive pressure, and fell on the head of a certain
woman. As all the bystanders deemed her already quite dead, and that
her head had been quite shattered, they covered her with the cloak
that she was wearing, so that, the sermon ended, her pitiable body
might be borne forth from the church. Howbeit, the woman had
committed herself in faith unto the Blessed Francis, before whose
altar she lay. And lo! the preaching ended, she rose up in the
presence of all so sound as that no trace of injury from might be
seen upon her. Yea, what is more marvellous, she having for a long
time past until that very hour suffered from an almost incessant
headache, was from thence utterly freed from trouble of any disease,
as she herself afterward bare witness.

5. At Corneto, at the founding of a
bell in the place of the Brethren, certain devout men had come
together, and a boy of eight years, named Bartholomew, was bringing a
gift for the Brethren that were at work. Lo! on a sudden a strong
wind arose, and shook the house, so that the great, heavy door in the
gateway fell upon the little boy with such a mighty crash as that all
believed one on whom such an immense weight had fallen must needs be
crushed by the deadly concussion. For he lay so completely buried
beneath the fallen weight as that nothing of him could be seen from
without. All the bystanders ran unto the spot, invoking the powerful
right hand of the Blessed Francis. Yea, his father too, whose limbs
had become stiff so that he was unable to stir for grief, committed
his son with prayers and cries unto Saint Francis. At length the
deadly weight was raised from above the boy, and behold, he whom they
had believed to be dead, was seen rejoicing, as though roused from
sleep, and with no trace of any injury upon him. Accordingly, when he
was fourteen years of age, he became a Brother Minor, and was
afterward a learned and renowned preacher in the Order.

6. The men of Lentino had quarried
from the mountain an immense stone, that was to be laid upon the
altar in a church of the Blessed Francis that was then about to be
consecrated. Now about forty men were striving to place the stone on
a cart, and, while they were putting forth their strength again and
again, the stone fell upon one man, and buried him as in a tomb.
Perturbed in mind, and knowing not what to do, the greater part of
the men departed in despair. Howbeit, ten remained, and they with
lamentable cries called upon Saint Francis, imploring him not to
suffer a man to meet with such an horrible death while in his
service; and at last, regaining courage, they removed the stone with
such ease as that none could doubt the power of Francis had come unto
their aid. The man rose up sound in all his limbs, and had, moreover,
recovered the clear sight of his eyes, that had been dim afore, so
that thus it might be given unto all to know of what mighty efficacy
are the merits of the Blessed Francis in cases beyond hope.

7. A like thing befell at San
Severino in the March of Ancona. Whileas an immense stone, that had
been brought from Constantinople for the church of the Blessed
Francis, was being dragged along by the strength of many, it slipped
on a sudden, and fell upon one of them that were dragging it. Albeit
he was believed to be not only dead, but also utterly ground to
pieces, nevertheless, the Blessed Francis coming unto his aid and
raising the stone, he leapt forth from the weight of the stone that
had lain upon him well and sound, free from all injury.

8. A citizen of Gaeta, named
Bartholomew, had toiled much in the building of a certain church of
the Blessed Francis, when a beam, that had not been firmly fixed,
fell crashing on his head, and sorely injuring him. Feeling that
death was coming upon him, and being a man faithful and religious, he
besought the Last Sacrament from a Brother. The Brother, deeming him
about to die, lest he might not be able to bring It in time, set
before him the words of the Blessed Augustine, saying unto Him:
“Believe, and thou hast eaten.” On the following night,
the Blessed Francis appeared unto him with eleven Brethren, carrying
a lamb in his bosom, and approached his couch, and called him by
name, saying: “Bartholomew, fear not, for the enemy shall not
prevail against thee, who was minded to hinder thee in my service.
This is the Lamb, Whom thou didst ask to be given unto thee, and Whom
by reason of thy good desire thou hast received, by Whose might
moreover thou shalt gain health of both the inner and the outer man.”
With these words, he laid his hands upon the wounds, and bade him
return unto the work that he had begun. The man, rising very early in
the morning, appeared unscathed and rejoicing unto those who had left
him half dead, filling them with marvel and amaze, and thus he
stirred up their minds, alike by his own ensample, and the miracle
wrote by the Saint, unto veneration and love for the blessed Father.

9. A man named Nicholas, of the town
of Ceperano, fell on a day into the hands of his cruel enemies. They,
with brutal ferocity, inflicted wound upon wound upon him, not
ceasing to rage against the ill-fated man until they deemed him
either dead, or on the point of death. Howbeit, this Nicholas had
cried with a loud voice, so soon as the first wounds were dealt him,
“Saint Francis, succour me! Saint Francis, aid me! “Many
folk at a distance heard these cries, albeit they were not able to
bring him succour. At length he was carried home, all covered with
his own blood, howbeit, he confidently maintained that he should not
see death by reason of those wounds, and that he even felt no pain
therefrom, forasmuch as that Saint Francis had succoured him, and had
obtained from the Lord that he might show his repentance. That which
ensued confirmed his words, for, when the blood was washed off, he
stood up forthwith unscathed, contrary unto all men’s
expectation.

10. The son of a nobleman in the town
of San Gimignano was labouring under a sore sickness, and, despairing
of ever regaining his health, was brought down unto extremities. For
there flowed from his eyes a stream of blood, such as is wont to gush
forth when a vein in the arm is cut, and, as other sure signs of
approaching death were seen in the rest of his body, he was given up
for dead, nay more, as through weakness of spirit and of vital force
he had lost the power of feeling and of movement, he seemed to have
already quitted the body. Yet, while his kinsfolk and friends were
assembling together to bewail him, as is the custom, and were
treating only of his burial, his father, who trusted in the Lord, ran
with hurried steps unto the church of the Blessed Francis in that
town, put a rope round his neck, and threw himself on the ground in
the deepest humility; lying thus, he vowed vows and offered up many
prayers, and merited by his sighs and groanings to have Saint Francis
as his advocate with Christ. Then the father returned at once unto
his son, and, finding him restored unto health, changed his mourning
into rejoicing.

11. A like miracle was wrought of the
Lord, by the merits of His Saint, on a damsel in a town of Catalonia,
called Tamarid, and on another in Ancona; these twain were through
exceeding sore sickness nigh their last breath, when the Blessed
Francis, who had been invoked with faith by their parents, restored
them forthwith unto entire health.

12. A clerk at Vico Bianco, Matthew
by name, having drunk of a deadly poison, was so weighed down thereby
as that he lost all power of speech, and could but await his last
end. A priest exhorted him to confess unto him, but could not avail
to wring one word from him. Nevertheless, in his heart he was humbly
beseeching Christ that, through the merits of the Blessed Francis, He
would deign to snatch him from the jaws of death, and speedily,
as,—strengthened by the Lord,—he uttered the name of the
Blessed Francis with faith and devotion, he vomited forth the poison,
as they who were present bear witness, and returned thanks unto his
deliverer.

IV.
Of them that were saved from shipwreck

1. Some sailors were exposed unto
great peril of the sea, when,—they being about ten miles
distant from the port of Barl etta,—an exceeding great storm
arose, and they, already doubting of their lives, let down the
anchors. But as the sea swelled ever more fiercely under the blasts
of the storm, the ropes were broken and the anchors left behind, and
they themselves were driven hither and thither over the waters in a
doubtful and wavering course. At length, by the divine will the sea
was calmed, and they made ready to use all efforts to regain the
anchors, the ropes whereof were floating on the top of the water. And
since they could not compass it in their own strength, they invoked
the aid of many Saints, and were worn out with toil and sweat,
howbeit, at the end of a whole day they had not regained a single
one. Now there was a certain sailor, whose name was Perfetto, but
whose way of life was far from perfect, and he, in mocking fashion,
said unto his companions: “Look now, ye have invoked the aid of
all the Saints, and as ye see, there is not one that will succour ye.
Let us invoke this Francis, who is a new Saint, perchance he will
dive into the sea in some wise, and restore us our lost anchors!”
The rest agreed unto the advice of Perfetto, not in mockery, but in
earnest, and, reproving him for his derisive words, made a freewill
vow unto the Saint, and confirmed the same; at once, in a moment,
without any implement, the anchors floated on the top of the water,
as though the properties of the iron had been turned into the
buoyancy of wood.

2. A pilgrim, weak in body by reason
of a very sharp attack of fever, wherefrom he had lately suffered,
was carried on board a ship, and voyaged from the parts beyond the
sea. He too cherished an especial feeling of devotion for the Blessed
Francis, and had chosen him as his advocate with the Heavenly King.
Now he, being not yet entirely recovered of his sickness, was
tormented by a burning thirst, and, as water was then failing them,
he began to cry with a loud voice: “Go with faith, pour out a
cup for me, for that the Blessed Francis hath filled my little vessel
with water!” O wonder! They found the vessel full of water,
though it had been afore left empty. On another day, a storm arose,
and the ship was covered with the waves, and shaken by the violence
of the hurricanes, so that all now feared shipwreck; then this same
feeble man began, with sudden cries, to make his voice echo
throughout the ship: “Arise, all of ye,” saith he, “and
meet the Blessed Francis, who is coming hither. Lo, he is at hand to
save us!” Thus with loud cries and many tears, he fell on his
face, and adored him. At once, at the appearance of the Saint, the
sick man regained his entire health, and there followed a great calm
of the sea.

3. Brother James of Rieti, when with
some other Brethren he was crossing a river in a small boat, and had
first landed his companions on the bank, was making ready to
disembark after them. But by a mischance that little boat upset, and,
while the steersman swam, the Brother was plunged into the deep
water. The Brethren that were set ashore invoked the Blessed Francis
with loving entreaty, and with tears and sighs implored him to
succour his son. The Brother too, that was plunged in the middle of
an exceeding great whirlpool, since he could not cry with his voice,
cried from his heart, with all his might, beseeching the aid of the
holy Father. And lo! the blessed Father coming unto his aid in bodily
form, he walked through the deep as though on dry land, and, laying
hold on the capsized boat, came with it unto the shore. Wondrous to
relate, his clothes were not soaked, no, nor had a drop of water come
nigh his habit.

4. A Brother named Bonaventura, while
crossing a certain lake with two men, had his boat broken in twain by
the force of the rushing water, and was plunged into deep water,
together with his companions, and the boat. But when from the deep
waters of their distress they invoked with all confidence their
merciful Father, Francis, on a sudden the boat, all swamped with
water, floated to the surface, and, carrying them, came safe unto
port, under the guidance of the Saint.

In like manner also, a Brother of
Ascoli, who had been plunged into a river, came forth delivered by
the merits of Saint Francis.

Moreover, on the lake of Rieti,
certain men and women that were exposed unto a like peril, by calling
upon the name of Saint Francis, safely escaped a dangerous shipwreck
in the midst of the waters.

5. Some sailors of Ancona, tossed by
a perilous tempest, saw themselves in danger of drowning. When,
despairing of their life, they called upon Saint Francis in suppliant
fashion, a great light appeared in the boat, and with that light a
calm from heaven was granted them, as if the holy man could by his
wondrous power command the winds and the sea. But I think that it is
in no wise possible to relate one by one the many portents and
miracles whereby our blessed Father hath been glorified, and is
glorified, on the sea, nor the many times that he hath brought help
unto them that were in despair. Nor is it strange that unto him, now
reigning in heaven, there should be granted power over the waves,
seeing that while he abode m this mortal state all created things,
transfigured into their first image, did him service in marvelous
wise.

V.
Of them that he set free from bonds and imprisonment

1. It befell a Greek in Romania, that
was in the service of a certain lord, to be falsely accused of theft,
wherefore the lord of the land bade him be shut up in a narrow
prison, and heavily fettered. But the lady of the house, pitying the
servant, and believing of a surety that he was free from the guilt
imputed unto him, entreated her husband with devout and importunate
prayers to set him free. Then, as her husband, in his obstinate
harshness, would not agree thereunto, the lady had recourse as a
suppliant unto Saint Francis, and in prayer committed the innocent
man unto his goodness. Forthwith that succourer of the unhappy shewed
himself ready, and in his mercy visited the captive. He undid his
bonds, brake open the prison, and, laying his hands on the innocent
man, led him forth, saying: “I am he unto whom thy lady hath
devoutly commended thee.” As he was seized by mighty dread, and
was skirting an abyss as a descent from the lofty cliff, on a sudden,
by the power of his deliverer, he found himself on the flat ground.
Then he returned unto his mistress, and by his narration of the true
happening of the miracle, kindled a yet more glowing love and
veneration for Christ and His servant Francis in the devout lady.

2. In Massa, a certain poor man owed
a great sum of money unto a knight of Saint Peter. Having no means to
pay it withal by reason of his destitution, the debtor was arrested
by the knight that sought his money back, and prayed him in suppliant
wise to take pity on him, entreating a respite for the love of the
Blessed Francis. But the haughty knight spurned the prayers he made,
and in his vain judgement esteemed the love of the Saint lightly, as
if it were a vain thing. For he made obstinate reply, saying, “I
will shut thee up in such a place, and such a dungeon, as that
neither Francis nor any other shall be able to succour thee.”
And he essayed to do what he had said. He found a dark dungeon,
wherein he threw the man, fettered. But shortly after there stood by
him the Blessed Francis, who, breaking open the prison, and loosing
his chains, led forth the man, unscathed, unto his own abode. Thus
the strong power of Francis, spoiling of his prey the haughty knight,
set free from his evil case the captive who had committed himself
unto him, and changed the knight’s arrogance into gentleness by
a marvellous miracle.

3. Albert of Arezzo was held in
strictest confinement for debts unjustly demanded of him, and did
humbly commit his innocence unto Saint Francis. He had an especial
love for the Order of Brothers Minor, and among the Saints honoured
Saint Francis with supreme veneration. His creditor said in blasphemy
that neither Francis nor God could deliver him from his hands. Now it
befell on the Vigil of Saint Francis, when the captive had taken no
food, but for love of the Saint had bestowed his meal on a poor man,
as night came on, Saint Francis appeared unto him as he kept the
Vigil. At his entrance, the fetters fell from his feet, and the
chains from his hands, the doors were opened of themselves, the
boards of the roof sprang apart, and the man went forth free,
returning unto his own house. Thenceforward he performed a vow,
fasting on the Vigil of the Blessed Francis, and adding an ounce
yearly unto the wax candle that he was wont yearly to offer, as a
token of his increasing devotion.

4. While that the lord Pope Gregory
the Ninth was sitting in the seat of the Blessed Peter, a certain man
named Peter, of the city of Alesia, was accused of heresy, taken
prisoner at Rome, and, at the bidding of that same Pontiff, handed
over unto the safekeeping of the Bishop of Tivoli. The Bishop
received him under pain of forfeiting his see did he escape, and
bound him with fetters, and caused him to be shut up in a dark
prison, lest he should escape, making him eat bread by weight and
drink water by measure. But the man began to call upon the Blessed
Francis to have compassion on him, praying and weeping much, and all
the more inasmuch as he had heard that the Vigil of his Feast was
then at hand. And because with sincere faith he had abjured all the
errors of heretical frowardness, and with all the devotion of his
heart was cleaving unto Francis, that most faithful servant of
Christ, by the intercession of his merits, he gained an answer from
the Lord. For, as the night of his Feast came on, about twilight, the
Blessed Francis in his pity came down into the prison, and, calling
the captive by name, bade him quickly arise. He, mightily afeared,
asked who he was, and was told that it was the Blessed Francis who
stood by him. Then by the power of the presence of the holy man he
saw that the chains had fallen from his feet, broken, and that the
rafters of the prison were opened by the nails therein springing
forth of themselves, and that an open passage was afforded him for
going forth; howbeit, all trembling and stricken dumb as he was, he
knew not how to escape, but cried aloud in the doorway, and filled
all the gaolers with fear. When they had related unto the Bishop that
he was loosed from his bonds, and had informed the prelate of the
manner of its happening, he came thither out of devotion, and,
clearly perceiving the power of God, worshipped the Lord on the spot.
The chains, moreover, were carried before the lord Pope and the
Cardinals, and they, seeing what had come to pass, were filled with
great amaze, and blessed God.

5. Guidolotto of San Gimignano was
falsely charged with having poisoned a certain man, and with having
purposed to slay in like manner the dead man’s son and his
whole house. Forthwith he was arrested by the Podesta of the
district, loaded with exceeding heavy chains, and shut up in a
certain tower. But he, having confidence in the Lord by reason of his
innocence, whereof he was assured, commended his cause unto the
advocacy of the Blessed Francis, that he might defend it. Now while
the Podesta was revolving in his mind in what manner he might wring
from him by torture a confession of the crime wherewith he was
charged, and by what punishment, after his confession, he should put
him to death,—lo, on that same night, when next morning he was
to be led out to the torture, he was visited by Saint Francis in
bodily form, and was wrapt round until morning by a great flood of
light, and was filled with joy, and great confidence, and received a
full assurance of his escape. At morn, the torturers came, and took
him from the prison, and bound him on the rack, loading him with
great iron weights. Many times he was lowered and then again raised,
so that, one torture following on another, he might the more quickly
be compelled to confess to the charge. But he was ever of a glad
countenance, in the innocency of his spirit, and shewed no suffering
amid these torments. Then a great fire was kindled beneath him,
howbeit, not a hair was injured, though he was hanging head
downwards. Finally, boiling oil was poured over him, but, by the
power of the Advocate unto whom he had entrusted his defence, he
vanquished all these trials, and was accordingly set free, and
departed unscathed.

VI.
Of them that were delivered from the perils of childbirth

1. A certain Countess in Slavonia, as
zealous for righteousness as she was distinguished by her noble
birth, glowed with devotion toward Saint Francis, and toward his
Brethren with a watchful beneficence. Now, being in childbed, she was
of wrung by bitter pangs, and brought unto such terrible straits as
that it seemed the birth of the child must be the death of the
mother. It seemed that the child could not draw breath unless she
breathed her last, and that such throes must portend not birth, but
death. Then she bethought her of the fame of Saint Francis, of his
power, and his glory; her faith was aroused, and her devotion
enkindled. She turned her unto that sure help, that faithful friend,
that comforter of the devout, that refuge of the sorrowing, saying:
“O Saint Francis, all my bones implore thy goodness, and in my
mind I make the vows that I cannot speak aloud.” ’Twas
marvellous how swiftly his goodness succoured her! The end of her
prayer was the end of her pangs, the goal of her labour, the
beginning of her delivery. For at once all her distress ceased, and
she brought forth the child in safety. Nor was she unmindful of her
vow, nor did she draw back from her intent. For she made be built a
fair church and, when built, handed it over unto the Brethren in
honour of the Saint.

2. In the countryside round Rome, a
certain woman named Beatrice, that was nigh her delivery, had borne
for four days the babe, dead, in her womb, and, hapless one, was
driven unto great straits and tormented by deadly throes. The dead
babe was bringing the mother nigh death, and the untimely offspring
that had not yet seen the light was seen of all to be imperilling the
mother. The physicians essayed to render aid, but all mortal remedies
were but vain. Thus a very heavy share of our first mother’s
curse fell upon this unhappy woman, who, being made a tomb for her
unborn child, must needs await her own burying speedily and surely.
Yet she commended herself, by messengers, with entire devotion, unto
the Brothers Minor, and as a suppliant begged for some relic of Saint
Francis, with full faith. It chanced by the divine ruling that they
found a fragment of the cord wherewith the Saint was sometime girded.
At once, as the cord was laid on the sufferer, all her pain was
stayed right easily, and she was delivered of the dead babe, that was
causing her death, and restored unto her former health.

3. The wife of a certain nobleman of
Carvio, Juliana by name, was wearing away her years in mourning by
reason of the deaths of her sons, and was alway bewailing her unhappy
fate. For all those sons that she had borne in suffering, she had
with yet bitterer suffering consigned unto the tomb but a short space
thereafter. Accordingly, when she had been four months pregnant, and,
by reason of her past experience, was more concerned for the death,
than for the birth, of the child she had conceived, she prayed the
Blessed Father Francis in faith for the life of her unborn babe. And
lo! as she was sleeping one night, a woman appeared unto her in a
dream, carrying a lovely little boy in her arms, whom with joyous
mien she held out unto her. But when she refused to take him, fearing
at once to lose him, that woman added: “Thou mayst safely take
him, for him whom the holy Francis shall send thee, pitying thy
sorrow, shall be lusty with life and shall rejoice in health.”
Forthwith the woman awoke, and understood by the vision shewn her
from heaven that the Blessed Francis was ready to succour her, and
from that hour she redoubled her prayers and made many vows, if so be
that she might bear a child such as had been promised. At length her
full time came that she should be delivered, and she brought forth a
male child, who bloomed with all childish vigour, as if he had
received his life’s nourishment through the merits of the
Blessed Francis, and thus served as an incitement unto his parents
for devouter love for Christ and His Saint.

A like miracle the Blessed Father
wrought in the town of Tivoli. There was there a woman who had borne
several daughters, and was wearying with yearning for a man child,
and sighed forth prayers and vows unto Saint Francis. Then, by his
merits, that woman conceived, and it was granted her to bear twin
sons, albeit she had but prayed for one.

4. At Viterbo, a woman that was nigh
her delivery was deemed nigher death, being wrung by internal pangs,
and enduring extremest agony from the throes that be the lot of
womankind. When her bodily strength was failing thereunder, and all
the skill of leechcraft had been found wanting, the woman called upon
the name of the Blessed Francis, and was at once delivered, bringing
her travail unto an happy end. Howbeit, having attained her desire,
she was forgetful of the favour that had been shewn her, and failed
to shew due deference to the Saint, for on his birthday she put forth
her hand unto household tasks. And behold on a sudden her right arm,
that had been stretched forth to work, remained stiff, and dried up.
When she strove to draw it back unto her side with the other, that
too by a like punishment withered. Then the woman, seized by a divine
fear, renewed her vows, and, by the merits of the pitiful and humble
Saint, unto whose service she again vowed herself, was suffered to
regain the use of her limbs, that she had lost through her
ingratitude, and dishonouring of him.

5. A certain woman, in the
countryside round Arezzo, having endured the pangs of childbirth
throughout seven days, had already turned black, and was despaired of
by all; she made a vow unto the Blessed Francis, and, dying, began to
invoke his aid. Even as she uttered the vow, she instantly fell on
sleep, and saw in a dream the Blessed Francis speaking gently unto
her, and asking whether she knew him by sight, and whether she could
recite that antiphon of the glorious Virgin: the “Hail, Queen
of mercy,” unto the honour of that same Virgin? And when she
made answer that she knew both, “Begin,” saith the Saint,
“ the sacred antiphon, and before that thou hast ended it, thou
shalt be delivered in safety.” At these words, the woman
awaked, and, trembling, began to say the “Hail, Queen of
mercy.” And even as she invoked those pitiful eyes, and made
mention of the fruit of that virgin womb, she was instantly freed
from all distress, and gave birth unto a lovely babe, rendering
thanks unto the Queen of mercy who, through the merits of the Blessed
Francis, had deigned to shew pity unto her.

VII.
Of the blind that received sight

1. In the Convent of the Brothers
Minor at Naples, there abode a Brother named Robert, that Brother had
been blindfor many years, and some superfluous flesh had grown over
his eyes, hindering the movement and use of his eyelids. As very many
foreign Brethren were gathered together in that Convent, on their way
unto divers parts of the world, the Blessed Father Francis, in their
presence, cured on this wise the Brother aforesaid, a mirror of holy
obedience,—that by the newness of the miracle he might
encourage them to go forward. One night, the aforesaid Brother Robert
was lying sick unto death, and even now the commendatory prayer for
his soul had been uttered, when lo! the Blessed Father stood by him,
together with three Brethren that had been perfect in all
saintliness,—to wit, Saint Antony, Brother Augustine, and
Brother James of Assisi; for these, even as they had perfectly
followed him in life, were now in like manner his zealous companions
after death. Saint Francis, taking a knife, cut away that superfluous
flesh, and restored his sight as it had formerly been, and brought
him back from the jaws of death, and said unto him: “Son
Robert, the favour that I have shewn thee is a token unto the
Brethren that go unto far distant nations, that I shall go before
them, and guide their steps. Let them go (saith he) rejoicing, and
let them fulfil the obedience that is laid upon them with eager
zest.”

2. At Thebes, in Romania, a blind
woman had kept the Vigil of Saint Francis by fasting on bread and
water alone, and on the morning of the Feast was brought by her
husband unto the church of the Brothers Minor. And, during the
celebration of Mass, at the elevation of the Body of Christ, she
opened her eyes, saw It clearly, and did most devoutly adore It. Yea,
she cried aloud in her adoration, saying: “Thanks be unto God
and His Saint, I see the Body of Christ!” Whereupon, all that
were there present turned round as she uttered her triumphant cries.
When the sacred rites were ended, the woman returned unto her home,
glad in spirit, and having the sight of her eyes. And she exulted,
not alone for that she had regained her bodily sight, but also for
that the first thing her eyes had looked upon,—through the
merits of the Blessed Francis, aided by the power of her faith,—had
been that wondrous Sacrament, that is the true and living light of
souls.

3. In the town of Pofi, in Campania,
a boy aged fourteen had been visited by a sudden affliction, and had
utterly lost the sight of his left eye. The sharpness of the agony
forced the eye out of its place so that, the nerves being relaxed, it
hung down by a finger’s length unto his jaws, and was almost
withered up. When there was no remedy left but to cut it off, and his
cure was utterly despaired of by those that were tending him, his
father turned to invoke the aid of the Blessed Francis with his whole
heart. Nor did that unwearied succourer of the unhappy fail to answer
the prayers of his suppliant. For the withered eye was by his
wondrous might restored unto its own place, and unto its former
power, and was enlightened by the beams of longed-for light.

4. In the same province, at Castro, a
very heavy beam fell from a height, and struck the head of a certain
priest with great force, blinding his left eye. He, cast unto the
ground, began with a loud voice to cry pitifully on Saint Francis,
saying: “Aid me, most holy Father, that I may be able to go
unto thy Feast, as I have promised thy Brethren.” For it was
the Vigil of the Saint. At once he arose, most wondrously saved, and
brake forth into cries of praise and gladness, and brought amazement
and rejoicing on all that stood round, and had been sympathising with
his misfortune. He proceeded unto the Feast, telling all men how he
had proven the Saint’s mercy and power in his own person.

5. A certain man of Monte Gargano,
while he was working in his vineyard, and cutting down a piece of
wood with an axe, struck his own eye, and cut it in twain so that the
pupil hung down outside. Being in such desperate straits, he gave up
hope of being succoured by any mortal skill, and vowed to fast before
the Feast of Saint Francis, if he would aid him. At once the Saint of
God restored the eye unto its own place, and joined together again
the parts that had been thus cleft, and endowed it with its former
sight, so that no traces of the injury remained.

6. The son of a certain nobleman,
blind from his birth, received his longed-for sight through the
merits of Saint Francis, and, gaining a name from this incident, was
called Illuminato. Afterward, when he was of the age to do so, he
entered the Order of the Blessed Francis, not forgetful of the
benefit that he had received, and made such progress in the light of
grace and goodness as that he was seen to be a son of the true light.
At length, by the all-powerful merits of the blessed Father, he
consummated his holy beginning by a yet holier ending.

7. At Zancati, a town near Anagni,
there was a soldier, named Gerard, who had entirely lost his
eyesight. Now it befell that two Brothers Minor, coming from foreign
parts, turned aside unto his house to be entertained there. Being
received with devotion by the whole household, by reason of their
veneration for Saint Francis, and treated with the utmost kindness,
they gave thanks unto God and their host, and proceeded unto a place
of the Brethren that was hard by. And on a night the Blessed Francis
appeared in a dream unto one of those Brethren, saying: “Rise,
hasten with thy companion unto the house of our host, who hath
received Christ and me in receiving you. For I am fain to recompense
him for his kindly ministries. He became blind as a punishment for
his sins, which he neglected to wipe out by confession and
penitence.” The Father vanished, and that Brother speedily
arose, that, together with his companion, he might hasten to fulfil
his behest; they came unto the house of their host, and related unto
him in order all things that the one of them had seen. The man was no
little astonied, and confirmed all their words as true; he was moved
unto tears, and made free confession. At length, having vowed to do
penance, and his inner man being thus renewed, he forthwith recovered
his bodily sight. The report of this miracle spread on all sides, and
stirred up many, not alone to venerate the Saint, but also to make
humble confession of their sins and to practise the virtue of
hospitality.

VIII.
Of them that were delivered from divers diseases

1. At Citta della Pieve there was a
beggar-lad deaf and dumb from birth, whose tongue was so short and
small as that it seemed to have been cut quite off, as many who
examined it at divers times thought. A man named Mark took him to
lodge with him, for the love of God, and the lad, recognising him as
a benefactor, became eager to abide with him. One evening, when this
man was supping with his wife,—the boy being in their
presence,—he said unto his wife: “I should deem it the
greatest of all miracles if the Blessed Francis were to restore
hearing and speech unto this lad.” And he added: “I vow
unto God that if Saint Francis will deign to effect this, for love of
him I will support this lad so long as he liveth.” O sure
miracle! At once, his tongue grew, and he spake, saying: “Glory
be unto God, and unto Saint Francis, who hath given me speech and
hearing.”

2. Brother James of Iseo, while yet a
child in his father’s house, sustained a right grievous bodily
injury. Howbeit, inspired of the Holy Spirit, spite of his youth and
infirmity, he entered the Order of Saint Francis out of devotion,
disclosing unto none the infirmity wherefrom he suffered. Now it came
to pass, that when the body of the Blessed Francis was translated
unto the place where the precious treasure of his sacred bones now
lieth hidden, the said Brother was present at that joyful
translation, that he might show due honour unto the most holy body of
his Father, now in glory. And, drawing nigh the tomb, wherein the
sacred bones had been placed, in the devotion of his spirit he
embraced the holy sepulchre, and forthwith in wondrous wise his
injury was repaired, and he felt himself healed, and laid aside the
girdle he had worn, and from that hour was free from all the pain he
had suffered in the past. There were delivered from a like infirmity
Brother Bartolo of Gubbio, Brother Angelo of Todi, Nicolas, a priest
of Sticano, John of Fora, a certain citizen of Pisa, and another of
Cisterna, Peter of Sicily, and a man from the town of Spello, hard by
Assisi, and very many others; all of whose marvellous cures were
wrought through the mercy of God, and the merits of the Blessed
Francis.

3. In the Maremma there was a woman
who for the space of five years had suffered from the loss of her
wits, and had also lost her sight and hearing; she would tear her
garments with her teeth, she had no fear of fire or water, and, to
crown all, endured frightful suffering from the falling sickness.
Now, on a certain night,—the divine mercy being minded to
succour her,—she was enlightened from heaven by the beams of a
healing radiance, and beheld the Blessed Francis seated upon a lofty
throne. Falling before him, she implored in suppliant wise to be made
whole. As he did not as yet grant her prayer, the woman vowed and
promised that, so long as she had aught to give, she would never
refuse alms unto them that asked for the love of God and of the
Saint. Then the Saint remembered that he had of old made a like pact
with the Lord, and, making the sign of the Cross over her, he
restored her unto perfect health.

It is known from truthful narrations
that Francis, the Saint of God, hath in his mercy set free from a
like affliction a certain maiden at Norcia, and the son of a certain
nobleman, and divers others.

4. Peter of Foligno had on a time set
forth to visit the shrine of the Blessed Michael, but, as he was
making the pilgrimage with but little reverence, he was assailed by
demons while tasting the water of a certain fountain. For three years
thenceforward he was possessed, and his body rent in pieces, he
uttered most vile words, and was ghastly to look upon; howbeit, he
had at times intervals of sanity, and in one of them he humbly
besought the aid of the Blessed Francis,—that he had heard to
be effectual in putting to flight the powers of the air,—and
went unto the tomb of the holy Father. So soon as he touched it with
his hand, he was miraculously delivered from the demons that were so
cruelly rending him.

In like manner, the mercy of Francis
succoured a certain woman at Narni that was possessed of a devil, and
many other folk, the extremities of whose torments, and the manner of
whose cures, it would take long to relate one by one.

5. A man named Buono, a citizen of
Fano, who was a paralytic and leper, was carried by his parents unto
the church of the Blessed Francis, and was made perfectly whole from
both diseases.

Moreover, yet another youth, named
Alto, of San Severino, who was leprous all over, having first made a
vow, was brought unto the tomb of the Saint, and by his merits was
cleansed from the leprosy. The Saint had an especial efficacy in
curing this malady, because in his love of humility and charity, he
had ever humbly set himself to do the lepers service.

6. A woman of noble birth, named
Rogata, in the diocese of Sora, had been for the space of
twenty-three years tormented by an issue of blood, and had moreover
suffered very many things from many physicians, and right often that
woman seemed like to die from her exceeding weakness; yet if ever the
issue was checked, her whole body became swollen. Hearing a boy
singing in the Roman speech of the miracles that God had wrought
through the Blessed Francis, she was moved by exceeding grief, and
brake forth into tears, and began thus, with enkindled faith, to say
within her heart: “O blessed Father Francis, thou who shinest
in the light of such miracles, if thou wilt deign to release me from
this infirmity, great glory will be thine, for that hitherto thou has
wrought no miracle to compare thereunto.” Why should I say
more? Even as she spake, she felt that she was delivered, by the
merits of the Blessed Francis. Her son moreover, whose name was
Mario, and who had a crippled arm, was healed by Saint Francis, unto
whom he had made a vow. The blessed standard-bearer of Christ also
made whole a woman in Sicily that for seven years had been tormented
by an issue of blood.

7. In the city of Rome, there was a
woman named Prassede, renowned for her piety. At a tender age, she
had secluded herself, for love of her heavenly Bridegroom, in a
narrow cell, and had now abode there for nigh forty years; she gained
from the Blessed Francis an especial favour. For on a day, when for
some useful purpose she had climbed on the balcony of her cell,
imagining that she felt herself pushed, she fell, breaking her leg
and ankle, and dislocating her shoulder. Then there appeared unto her
our most merciful Father, dazzling white in his glorious apparel, and
began to address her with gentle words: “Rise,” saith he,
“blessed daughter, rise, be not afeared.” And, taking her
by the hand, he lifted her up, and vanished. Then she turned hither
and thither throughout her cell, deeming she had seen a vision;
until, at her cries, a light was brought, and she, feeling herself
entirely healed by the servant of God, Francis, related in order all
things that had befallen her.

IX.
Of them that did not observe his Feast, and that failed in reverence
toward the Saint

1. In the province of Poitou, in a
town called Simo, there was a priest named Reginald, devoted unto the
Blessed Francis, whose Feast he had notified unto his parishioners as
one that should be observed with all solemnity. Nevertheless, one of
his flock that knew not the might of the Saint, lightly esteemed the
behest of his priest. He went forth into the country to cut wood, and
when he had made himself ready for work, heard a voice speaking unto
him thrice on this wise: “It is a Feast, it is not lawful to
work.” Howbeit his slavish foolhardiness was not to be bridled
by the bidding of the priest nor by the utterance of a voice from
heaven, wherefore the divine might forthwith added, for the glory of
the Saint, a miracle and a chastisement. For at once,—even as
he was holding the forked log in one hand, and lifted the other,
holding the iron axe, to cut it,—the divine might caused either
hand to cleave unto that it held, so that he could not avail to
loosen the fingers at all, and set either free. Stricken thereby with
exceeding amazement, and knowing not what to do, he hastened unto the
church, while many ran together from all sides to see this portent.
There, pierced to the heart, he humbly vowed himself, before the
altar, unto the Blessed Francis, at the exhortation of one of the
priests that were present,—for many priests had been called
together, and had come to keep the Feast. Three vows he made, even as
he had thrice heard that voice; to wit, that he would observe his
Feast; that, on his Feast, he would come unto that church wherein he
then was; and that he would go in person unto the tomb of the Saint.
Marvellous indeed to relate, as he uttered the first vow, one of his
fingers was set free, as he uttered the second, another, at the third
vow, a third finger could be unclasped, and thereafter the whole
hand, and the other hand to follow, while all the folk, that had now
gathered in great numbers, were most devoutly beseeching the mercy of
the Saint. Thus the man regained the free use of his hands as afore,
and of his own accord laid down his implements, while all praised
God, and the marvellous power of the Saint, who had shewn such
miraculous power to smite and to heal. And the implements hang unto
this day before the altar raised in honour of the Blessed Francis on
the spot, in memory of the event. Many other miracles were wrought
there and in the neighbourhood, and proved both that the Saint is
exalted in heaven, and that his Feast should be observed on earth
with all honour.

In the city of Mans, moreover,
when on the Feast of Saint Francis a certain woman put forth her
hand unto her distaff and laid hold on the spindle with her
fingers,—her hands stiffened, and her fingers began to be
tormented with burning heat. Then, learning by suffering, and
recognising the power of the Saint, she was pricked to the heart and
ran unto the Brethren. While his devout sons were imploring the
mercy of the holy Father on her behalf, she was without delay made
whole, nor were her hands in any way hurt, save that there remained
only a scar as of a burn, in memory of the event.

In like manner, a woman in greater
Campania, and another woman in the town of Oletto, and a third at
Piglio, who had thought scorn of observing the Feast of the blessed
Father, at the first, when they walked not uprightly, were
miraculously punished, but afterward, when they repented, were yet
more miraculously released, through the merits of Saint Francis.

3. A certain soldier of Borgo, in the
province of Massa, did most irreverently belittle the works of the
Blessed Francis, and the signs of his miracles. He heaped insults on
the pilgrims that came to honour his memory, and indulged in foolish
chatter against the Brethren in public. Once while he was assailing
the fame of the Saint of God, he added, over and above his sins, this
hateful blasphemy: “If it be true, (saith he), that this
Francis is a Saint, let my body fall by the sword this very day; but
if he be not a Saint, let me escape unhurt.” The wrath of God
tarried not in inflicting a meet punishment upon him, since already
his prayer had become sin. For but a short space thereafter, as this
blasphemer was insulting his nephew, the youth took a sword, and dyed
it in his uncle’s heart’s-blood. Thus on that same day
this guilty wretch did die,—a slave of hell and son of
darkness,—that all others might learn that the wondrous works
of Francis are not to be belittled by blaspheming words, but honoured
by devout praises.

4. A certain judge, named Alexander,
who by his venomous tongue had withdrawn all those that he could from
their devotion unto the Blessed Francis, was by the sentence of God
deprived of the use of his tongue, and remained dumb throughout six
years. He, being punished by the same member wherewithal he had
sinned, was recalled unto deep penitence, and grieved that he had
railed against the miracles of the Saint. Accordingly, the anger of
the merciful Saint did not endure, but he received him, repentant and
humbly invoking his name, into his favour, and restored his speech.
Thenceforward he devoted his once blaspheming tongue unto the praises
of the Saint, receiving through his chastisement alike a devout
spirit and a discipline.

X.
Of certain other miracles of divers kinds

1. In the town of Gagliano, in the
diocese of Sulmona, there was a certain woman named Mary, who had
yielded herself in devout service unto Christ Jesus and unto the
Blessed Francis. One day in Summer time she went forth to seek with
her own hands her needful food. As the heat waxed exceeding fierce,
she began to faint for burning thirst, and, having no draught
wherewith to relieve her, forasmuch as she was alone on a bare
mountainside, she threw herself on the ground like one dead, and
invoked her patron Saint Francis with devout emotion. And while the
woman was persisting in her moving and humble prayer, utterly worn
out with toil, thirst, and heat, she fell into a brief slumber. And
lo! Saint Francis approached, and calling her by name said: “Rise,
and drink the water that is proffered as a gift from heaven unto thee
and unto many.” At the sound of these words the woman rose from
sleep, no little strengthened, and taking a fern that was near her,
she tore it up from the ground by the roots and, scratching the soil
round about with a little twig, she came on a spring of water, which,
as she first beheld it, was but a little trickle, but waxed at once
by the divine power into a fountain. Then the woman drank, and,
having sated her thirst, bathed her eyes, which for a long time past
had been dim through an infirmity, but from that moment she felt them
steeped in new sight. The woman hastened unto her home, announcing
unto all this astounding miracle wrought unto the honour of Saint
Francis. Many folk ran together from all sides at the report of the
miracle, and, taught by experience, proved the miraculous efficacy of
that water, for many who touched it, having previously made
confession, were released from divers troubling diseases. That spring
has endured there until this day, and is clearly to be seen, and an
oratory hath been built on the spot in honour of the Blessed Francis.

2. In Spain, at San Facondo, a man
had a cherry-tree that had withered, and, beyond all hope, the Saint
miraculously restored it unto flourishing life of leaf, blossom, and
fruit.

Moreover, the tillers of the land
round Vilese were freed, by his miraculous aid, from a plague of
worms that were devouring their vineyards on every hand.

A certain priest at Paleuria had a
granary that swarmed every year with grain-devouring vermin, until,
having committed it in faith unto Saint Francis, it was thoroughly
purged.

And the lord of Pietramala in Apulia
committed his land unto him as a suppliant, and it was preserved
absolutely free from an hateful plague of locusts, albeit all the
lands that bordered it were consumed by the pest aforesaid.

3. A certain man, named Martin, had
led his cattle to pasture far from the town where he dwelt, when one
of the oxen had its leg so badly broken by a fall as that there
seemed no use in thinking of any remedy for it. Being anxious to
strip off the hide, and having no implement wherewith he might do so,
he returned home, entrusting the care of his ox unto the Blessed
Francis, and committing it confidently unto the sure protection of
the Saint, that it might not be eaten of wolves before his return.
Returning when it was fully day unto the ox that he had left in the
woods, and bringing the butcher with him, he found it feeding, and so
perfectly sound that he tried in vain to distinguish the broken leg
from the other. He gave thanks unto the good shepherd, that had had
such watchful care for his beast, and had granted it healing. The
humble Saint knew how to succour all them that called upon him, nor
disdained any mortal needs, howsoever trifling. For when a man of
Amiterno had a beast of burden stolen from him, he restored it. And
when a woman of Interdoco brake, by letting it fall, a new dish into
many pieces, he made it whole again. And for a man at Montolmo, in
the Marches, he repaired a ploughshare that had been broken in
pieces.

4. In the diocese of Sabina, there
was an aged woman, eighty years old, whose daughter died, leaving a
babe at the breast. This poor old woman was full of need, but empty
of milk, and knew no woman who could give the starving little one
milk to drink, drop by drop, as its need demanded; wherefore the aged
mother knew not at all where to turn. As the babe waxed weaker, and
she found herself at a loss for any human help, one night she turned
with her whole heart to implore the aid of the Blessed Father
Francis, shedding a flood of tears. At once that lover of the age of
innocence stood by her, saying: “I am Francis, O woman, whom
thou hast invoked with so many tears. Place (saith he) the babe’s
mouth at thy breasts, for the Lord will give thee milk in abundance.”
The aged woman obeyed the behest of the Saint, and at once the
breasts of her that was eighty years of age poured forth an abundance
of milk. The miraculous gift of the Saint was seen of all, many, both
men and women, hastening to behold it. And since they could not
impeach with their tongue that which their eyes had witnessed, they
were all stirred up to praise God in the marvellous might and
loveworthy goodness of His Saint.

5. At Spoleto, a man and his wife had
one only son, whom they bewailed each day as a reproach unto their
race. For his arms were fastened unto his neck, and his knees
attached unto his breast, and his feet joined unto his back parts, so
that he seemed more like a monster than like an human offspring. His
mother, stricken with very passionate sorrow by reason of this, with
frequent groanings cried on Christ, invoking the aid of Saint
Francis, that he would deign to help her in her misery, and exposed
as she was unto such reproach. Accordingly, on a night when by reason
of this sadness a sad slumber had overtaken her, there appeared unto
her Saint Francis, soothing her with gentle speech, and withal
bidding her carry the child unto a place hard by that was dedicated
unto himself; there water should be poured on him from the well of
that place, in the name of the Lord, and he should be made perfectly
sound. But she neglected to obey the behest of the Saint, wherefore
he repeated the same a second time. Yea, appearing a third time, he
led the woman and her child unto the gate of the said place, himself
going before and guiding them. Now certain noble dames were arriving
at the said place, by reason of devotion, and when the woman had
heedfully told them of her vision, they joined her in presenting the
child unto the Brethren, and, drawing water from the well, the most
nobly born of them all bathed the child with her own hands. Forthwith
the boy was seen to be sound and whole, with all his limbs set in
their right places, and the overwhelming miracle brought amazement on
all.

6. In the town of Cori, in the
diocese of Ostia, there was a man who had so entirely lost the use of
his leg as that he could in no wise walk nor move himself. Being thus
set in bitter straits, and despairing of mortal aid, he began one
night,—as if he saw the Blessed Francis present in bodily
form,—to take up the tale of his plaints on this wise: “Succour
me, Saint Francis, remembering how I have served thee, and the
devotion I have paid thee! For I have carried thee upon mine ass, I
have kissed thy holy feet and thy holy hands. I have ever been
devoted unto thee, ever wished thee well, and lo, I am dying by the
extreme agony of this suffering.” Stirred by these plaints,
forthwith the Saint, mindful of his benefactors, and well-pleased by
devotion, appeared, together with one Brother, unto the man as he lay
wakeful. He said that he had come at his call, and had brought the
means of healing. He touched the painful spot with a little staff,
made in the shape of a T, and at once the ulcer broke, and he
rendered the man his perfect health. And,—what is still more
marvellous,—he left the sacred sign T printed on the spot where
the healed ulcer had been, as a reminder of the miracle.

7. With this sign, Saint Francis used
to sign his letters, whensoever by reason of his affection he
dictated any writing. And lo! as the mind travelleth over the divers
miracles of the glorious Father Francis, and is bewildered by their
varied story, it is not without the divine leading that it hath
arrived at that sign of our salvation, Tau, wherein that glorious
standard-bearer of the Cross waxed so mighty; thus we may learn
therefrom that, even as the Cross was that which exalted his merits
and won him salvation, whileas he was fighting in Christ’s
train, so too it is become that which confirmeth the witness unto his
glory, now that he is triumphing with Christ.

8. This great and marvellous mystery
of the Cross,—in whose depths the gifts of graces, the merits
of virtues, and the treasures of wisdom and learning lie so
profoundly veiled that they be hidden from the wise and prudent of
the world,—was so fully revealed unto this babe in Christ as
that all his life was naught but a following the footsteps of the
Cross, he savoured no sweetness save that of the Cross, he preached
naught save the glory of the Cross. For verily at the outset of his
conversion he could say with the Apostle; “God forbid that I
should glory save in the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.” Nor
less truly, as he made progress in his conversion, might he have
added: “As many as walk according to this rule, peace be on
them, and mercy.” Yea, and most truly, in the ending thereof,
he could have concluded: “I bear in my body the marks of the
Lord Jesus.” And this too we are fain to hear from him day by
day: “Brethren, the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with your
spirit. Amen.”

9. Thou mayest, therefore, in full
assurance glory in the glory of the Cross, O glorious standard-bearer
of Christ, forasmuch as, beginning from the Cross, thou madest
progress according unto the rule of the Cross, and at length art
consummated in the Cross, while that, by the witness of the Cross, it
is known unto all the faithful how great is thy glory in heaven. And
in full assurance let those now follow thee who have come forth out
of Egypt, who,—the sea being divided by the staff of Christ’s
Cross,—shall pass through the desert into the Promised Land,
the land of the living; who, crossing the Jordan of our mortality,
shall enter thereinto by the marvellous power of that same Cross.
Thither may that true Leader and Saviour of His people, Christ Jesus
Crucified, bring us, by the merits of His servant Francis, unto the
praise and glory of God One and Three, Who liveth and reigneth for
ever and ever. Amen.